Heart of Night
by Sings-off-key
Summary: NWN1 HotU. When Waterdeep is attacked by drow, the Dark Maiden calls a reluctant hero to the city's aid. Solaufein thought he'd left the dangers and treachery of the Underdark behind. Will his faith be enough to fight the darkness without and within?
1. Prelude

_Author's Note: I've threatened to write this story for, gosh, a year now. NaNoWriMo was the impetus I needed. I plopped down my 50,000 words a day early and the first draft is done. It's going to take a good long while to get the (massive! number of) edits done but to celebrate, I thought I'd throw out a tidbit._

_I should mention, perhaps, that my Solaufein bears little relationship to the Solaufein of Weimer's BG2 mod. (If you haven't played it, why not? It's fun.) Ask my jaded warrior for poetry or philosophy and (after an incredulous stare from those shocking red eyes) he might point you to a bard of his acquaintance…_

**Prelude**

Solaufein slept.

He lay wrapped in his blankets and he slept while the full moon silvered the trees that surrounded his tiny hut on the edge of the Forest of Tethir. The _darthiir_, the wild elves of Suldanesselar, despised his human-like need for sleep. That an elf, even a dark elf, would choose this death-like sleep was a strangeness they could not comprehend. To be unwilling, or worse, unable to seek reverie was an aberration in their eyes. Sometimes he despised sleep too.

Solaufein slept. Light chased shadow across the clearing before his hut. Solaufein dreamt.

He opened his eyes to darkness. This was not the pattern of shadow on shadow that passed for darkness on the surface world. This was true darkness. This was the rich, secretive darkness of home.

He was not alone. A woman approached with the deliberate footsteps of one who acknowledges no need for stealth. She had a strong voice, a confident voice. An angry voice. She spoke but not to him. Darkness hid him. To evade that voice, he would have drawn up the darkness like a cloak.

"You tell me this—this mere _jaluk_ can stop me? Your jest fails to amuse."

Solaufein's heart stuttered in shock then raced. _Phaere? She lives?_ Solaufein twitched in his sleep. One hand closed as if it sought a weapon. _They swore to me she was dead._

"He is a threat to your ambitions." Solaufein recoiled from the deep unnatural voice that echoed as if the very air shrank from his resonant tones.

"I will not be stopped. Not by this male and not by your games. If this _jaluk_ is a threat, bring him to me."

"I cannot, Matron Mother."

_Phaere has taken control of her House? House Despana survived what we did to it? They lied about that too?_

"You will treat me with the respect I am due, fiend!"

"Of course, great Valsharess." His voice lingered over the title, drawing it out.

_Valsharess? What madness is this? There is only one empress of the Underdark and that is Lolth. Who would dare make so bold a claim? Who would dare risk Lolth's wrath? _

"I command you to bring him now."

"He lies beyond my power, Valsharess."

"As mighty as you are, such a simple task is beyond your power? I would like to know how that is so." No answer. "If you cannot fetch him, show him to me. Do not dare tell me you cannot."

Flames roared before him in a blinding curtain of light and heat. Solaufein flinched but the flames died down to form a ring on the floor around him, trapping but not burning. The floor was tiled. Light reflected off the cut stone of the walls. The room was strange to him yet he could almost feel the comforting weight of the rock above him. A woman pivoted on one foot to face him. Eyes burned from her dark face. She stared right at him.

_Not Phaere. I was wrong. A drow but not Phaere. They didn't lie._

If he had ever seen this woman before, he knew he would remember. Her eyes flicked past his shoulder. Fear—or the spell that held him—did not let him turn to see who stood at his back.

"What is his name?" the woman asked.

"He is called Solaufein," said the other.

The Valsharess stepped closer. Click. Click. Click. Her heels stabbed the floor. "Solaufein," she breathed. "And his House?"

"He has no House, Valsharess."

"An outcast." She met his eyes. The impulse to lower his gaze was ingrained but his paralysis prevented him from any show of submission. "I do not know how one such as you can threaten my great rise but I will give you this one warning. Do not stand in my way. Oppose me and I promise I shall see you dead. The Underdark will be mine. Nothing and no one will stop me."

Solaufein woke to a pounding heart and moonlight bright on his face.

_Great Valsharess, whoever you are, you have nothing to fear from me. There is nothing that will drag me back to the Underdark. Nothing._

If that had been his only dream, perhaps he could have kept that promise.

* * *

Samuel filled a tray with dirty mugs as the temple bells finished ringing the hour. The crowd in the tavern had thinned down to the serious drinkers, the ones who would linger until dawn if allowed, and then stagger out to retch in the alley. The halfling frowned as the front door opened. His innkeeper hackles rose at the sight of the lone stranger. _What's amiss here, Sammy me boy?_ The stranger wore a moss-colored cloak with the hood pulled down to hide his face in shadow. A summer night in Athkatla was warm for such a heavy cloak and far too warm for the gloves that covered his hands. As for his feet—

Samuel's nose gave a worried twitch. This one bore watching.

The stranger stepped out of the doorway and scanned the room. He—or possibly she, since the stranger appeared slight for one of the tallfolk—stood in indecision before moving to a small table in the room's darkest corner. When the bar maid approached, he ordered wine but made no attempt to chat her up, Samuel noticed. He did not remove his gloves, even when the bar boy brought him his drink, not even when he took a coin from his pouch to pay. Jemmy took the coin with a smile, then recoiled, all trace of sleepiness abruptly wiped from his face. After a moment calculated just long enough to look unrelated, Samuel beckoned for the boy to come to the bar.

"Is something wrong?"

Jemmy swallowed. "Nope." Samuel suppressed a sigh. Jemmy wasn't the brightest of boys when he was fresh and being asleep on his feet didn't sharpen his wits.

"Did that fellow say something to you?"

"Nope." Samuel gave him a look. "He asked how much for the drink and when I told him, he gave me a silver and asked if it was enough. He didn't ask for no change. So I didn't give him none."

"Amnian coin?"

"Aye."

"And that was all?" Jemmy shifted from side to side. "Well, was it?"

"I guess."

"Spit it out, boy."

"He looked up and his eyes—must have been the light."

"What did you see?" From experience, Samuel knew there was no point in giving the boy the clout he deserved.

"His eyes looked all red and scary. Like one of those vampires I heard tell about. But they're all dead now, right? So I was wrong about the eyes. Because if he was a vampire, he'd drink blood, right? Not wine."

The nest of vampires that preyed on the town had been wiped out four years ago but that didn't mean there weren't more, Samuel thought. There could always be more.

"Take this tray to the kitchen. Then go upstairs and fetch the big 'un," he told Jemmy. "Tell him to bring his friends."

"His friends? The bard's alone in his room. Didn't see him bring no lady friends home tonight."

"Go on now. He'll know what I mean."

And he did, for when the bard came down the stairs, Samuel saw he wore his sword belt with a sword at each hip. The bard cocked an eyebrow and joined him behind the bar.

"Trouble?"

"Mayhap," Samuel said. "Fellow just came in. Over there in the corner, the one with the hood."

The bard followed the innkeeper's gaze. "A traveler, judging by his pack."

"An honest man needn't hide his face like that."

"Some men hide their scars." The bard touched his own face lightly. Samuel had always thought the facial marks looked like decorations rather than battle scars but had never asked their origin.

"And some men hide their faces for other reasons. I don't like the look of him. I don't like his boots." When the bard snorted, the innkeeper scowled. "I'm serious, big 'un. Those are boots for dark nights and darker deeds."

"Such weighty expectations for a worn pair of boots, my dear Thunderburp."

"I'm never wrong about shoes. Look at your own feet. Are those a poet's shoes? Nay, big 'un, you're shod like a swordsman."

"Perhaps I am at that. Very well, my perspicacious sparrow, what would you have me do? Shall I accost this mysterious stranger of yours? Enquire about his cobbler?"

"I don't claim him," Samuel said. "He looks like your kind of trouble to me."

"You flatter me." He grinned and sauntered across the room. Samuel couldn't hear the bard's greeting but he didn't miss the stranger's reaction. He reached for the cudgel he kept behind the counter when the stranger came to his feet in one swift, sinuous motion.

"Solaufein!" the bard cried.

"Haer'Dalis." The stranger held out his hand but the bard laughed and lunged forward. He swept the smaller man into an exuberant embrace. The stranger stiffened and was quick to grab his hood when it fell back. But he was not quick enough to prevent Samuel's glimpse of snowy hair, ebon skin, and the devilish red eyes that had startled the bar boy.

"My raven, this is an utterly unexpected pleasure."

Samuel put back the cudgel. A drow elf, here in Athkatla, he thought. _I knew he was your kind of trouble, big 'un. And I daresay I'm right about the boots as well._

**Drow words used:**

_darthiir_—surface elf

_jaluk_—male


	2. Passage to the City of Splendors

_Author's Note: The elven word _dhaerow_, later corrupted to 'drow', has been translated as face of shadows, traitor, or heart of night._

_Revised to add a bit of ship-board dialog._

**2…Passage to the City of Splendors**

Solaufein followed the bard to his room upstairs. Haer'Dalis laughed and slapped his back. "The door is shut and barred but still you look as nervous as an imp in the Abyss."

"The innkeeper saw my face. Will he call the guard?"

"No, you're safe here." At that, Solaufein dropped his pack and set aside his cloak. A curved sword in a battered sheath lay across one lean hip. His armor was almost as dark as his skin, lovingly crafted, Haer'Dalis knew, from the flexible belly scales of the shadow dragon they'd killed three or four years ago. "What brings you to Athkatla? It has not, I fear, grown more tolerant since the last time you were here."

"So I gather," Solaufein said. Haer'Dalis raised a brow. "Several incidents during my travels here." Haer'Dalis waited but Solaufein did not elaborate. Instead he looked around the richly furnished sitting room. Through the open door behind his host, he could see a large platform bed, draped lavishly with gold silk. There was clutter everywhere. "If I am a raven, you are a magpie."

"You are not the first to say so."

"I wasn't sure I'd find you here," Solaufein said.

"After our return from the Abyss, I thought to settle for awhile. I hold the deed to the playhouse downstairs. I thought it might amuse me to see what I could make of it."

"And has it?"

"It has its moments. But tell me of yourself. What have you been doing since we parted? You talked about going back to Suldanesselar."

"I did so." Haer'Dalis watched Solaufein prowl around the room like a cat in the soft-soled boots the innkeeper found so alarming. With a wave of his hand, he invited the drow to sit. He poured them both a glass of wine from a bottle on the side table.

"Drink before you make me restless," he said. "Getting words out of you is like squeezing water from a stone. Tell me of Suldanesselar. Tell me of the beauteous Queen Ellesime."

Solaufein spread his hands. "The queen treated me with kindness. My time in the Forest of Tethir was—instructive. I know more of the surface world than I did. I had suspected that much of what my people were taught was lies but I was unprepared for the full extent of it."

"And you were accepted there? I still remember the reactions you got—"

Solaufein gave a half-amused huff of breath. "I was tolerated."

"Merely tolerated? After we saved their city from Irenicus?"

"I'm not sure any _darthiir_ can truly accept one of my kind."

"Ah."

"I met with a better reception than one of them would find in my former home, I assure you, _abbil_. I was under Queen Ellesime's protection and that served well enough. But tell me, Haer'Dalis—the Bhaalspawn. Do you know where she is?"

Haer'Dalis's eyes widened. "You won't find her here. She is not in Amn. Last I heard, she traveled to Kara-Tur but that was two years ago."

"Kara-Tur?"

"A land far to the east. She went there with that devilish brother of hers."

"Sarevok?"

"Aye. Whether they still are there, or plan to return, I do not know." At Solaufein's expression, he added, "I see this is unwelcome news."

"I need help. I had hoped—"

"Unless he's on a mission, you can find Sir Anomen at the Order of the Radiant Heart. He's the only one of our company I know how to find." He leaned back in his chair. "I am, of course, at your service."

"I hoped you would say so." Solaufein also leaned back.

"How may I help?"

"I must get to Waterdeep as quickly as possible."

"Sounds simple enough. Ships leave here for the City of Splendors regularly."

"I had hoped so but finding a ship is not so simple for one of my race. I cannot move about freely here. Or so I fear."

"A good point. I would hope a shipmaster would be less, ahem, provincial than the citizens of this fair town but that is by no means certain. I will inquire in the morning and book passage if I find a suitable ship."

"I would be grateful."

Haer'Dalis waved his hand. "Do not thank me for so trivial a service. I hope you will also accept my hospitality for the length of your stay in Athkatla. As you can see, I have plenty of room."

"My thanks again."

"The pleasure is mine. What takes you to Waterdeep? A matter of some urgency, hmm?" Solaufein hesitated. Haer'Dalis smiled. "Ah, my raven, is there a story here?"

"You may think me mad," the drow said.

"A most promising start to your tale."

Solaufein laughed. "You would think so, _abbil_. I'll tell you then—I have had dreams."

* * *

Solaufein waited with what patience he could muster in Haer'Dalis's stifling rooms. He shook out the tension in his shoulders when he heard the bard's whistle and quick step in the corridor. He unbarred the door at his light knock. Haer'Dalis had a thick package under one arm and his eyes were bright.

"Are you prepared to leave immediately, my raven?"

"You have found me a ship."

"Aye and she sails with the afternoon tide." Without waiting for Solaufein's reaction, he went into his bedchamber and dropped the package on the bed. "Travel supplies," was his cryptic remark. From an ornate wardrobe he pulled out the worn pack Solaufein remembered from their shared adventuring days. Working quickly, he tossed several changes of clothes onto the bed and finally an exquisite chain shirt that Solaufein remembered very well indeed.

"What's this?" Solaufein asked.

"I'm coming with you, of course." Haer'Dalis tossed him a quick grin. "If you wished confirmation of your dreams, let me tell you of today's news from Waterdeep. The Masked Lords have put out a call for adventurers. They offer a princely sum to anyone who can stop the attacks on the city."

"It was not I who needed confirmation. When one's goddess speaks, the heart knows the truth of it. Or so it is for us from this world, planes-walker."

"I have not been plagued by your dreams and I cannot help being a skeptic, my friend. But come, let us not tarry. Foul unnatural beasts emerge from the depths of Undermountain to stalk the streets of Waterdeep. It is feared that they are driven out by something worse."

"I know not of this Undermountain."

"I know but little myself. Undermountain is a huge warren of caverns that lie beneath Mount Waterdeep and the City of Splendors, stronghold to a wizard of great power named Halaster Blackcloak. He is also called the Mad Mage. There are some who say he rivals Elminster in both age and power."

"I've had enough of mad mages to last me a lifetime."

"As have I." But his eyes sparkled and his languid moves of last night were now vigorous.

"Eilistraee did not warn me of a wizard, but of a conqueror who has arisen from the drow. Could this mage be in her service?"

"From what I hear of Halaster, he serves no one but himself." Haer'Dalis finished packing and closed the ties on his pack. "But if he is mad, who can say? This may prove to be an interesting challenge, my friend."

An interesting challenge? Those words echoed in Solaufein's ear like a curse.

* * *

Haer'Dalis entered the dark cabin and found Solaufein still lying in his hammock. "Are you going to sleep the day away?"

"I rather think so."

"Not still seasick, are you?"

"_Nau_, but I am sick of the sea."

"Then you'll be pleased to learn that we land tonight. Come up on deck. You can view Mount Waterdeep from the captain's glass."

"When I look up at the mountains, they make my head spin. I'll see it tonight by moonlight without need of the captain's glass."

"There's no moon tonight."

"Even better." Solaufein felt his silver medallion of Eilistraee lay warm against his chest. He touched it through his shirt and muttered, "Forgive me, Eilistraee, I do not hate the moon you love."

Haer'Dalis sat on the floor and rested his head on his knees. "You do not seem pleased that we approach your goal. If I called you surly as a cambion, I would not be far off the mark. Is it the seasickness that makes you dour? Or do you have second thoughts?"

"At the prospect of returning to the Underdark?" Solaufein stared up at the ceiling. His hammock swayed. "I thought I had escaped. Now I must return, outcast, with no House and no place."

"Your heart holds no thrill at the prospect of adventure?"

"I am no madman. Unlike you, _abbil_."

Haer'Dalis lifted his head and smiled. "I am not so certain. Why, then, are you on this ship if you feel that way?"

"Eilistraee asks. I obey."

"You are compelled? This is a geas of some sort?"

"_Nau_. But She asks this of me."

"And you must answer?"

Solaufein stirred. The hammock rocked. "I am not certain I wish to be a man who will not answer the call of his goddess. Even if I do not know how I can accomplish Her will."

"This is where you lose me, raven. Could you not continue to secrete yourself away in your forest fastness and let another answer the call?"

"I did not secrete myself away. I was there to learn."

"Ah. I stand corrected."

"I was not hiding." Haer'Dalis leaned back against the wall and gave Solaufein one of his knowing smiles. Solaufein narrowed his eyes. "Do you think it is easy for a drow to live on the surface?"

"I am not unfamiliar with the prejudice you face."

"Our cases are not the same."

"I did not say they were."

Solaufein gave him a dissatisfied look. "Haer'Dalis, I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Ask away." The tiefling reached out a hand for his pack and started to dig through it.

"The captain and sailors are friendlier than I expected when they learned I was drow," Solaufein said. "And as I converse with them, it seems some have formed the impression that I am Drizzt Do'Urden traveling under a false name."

"Fancy that."

The look of mischief on Haer'Dalis's face made his heart sink. "Fancy that indeed. Do I look like Do'Urden? Do I carry his famous weapons? Unlike you and him, I am no expert in the _draa velve_. The style of two swords," he added, at Haer'Dalis's look. "Should he learn of these lies, he'll track me down and kick my ass from here to the Underdark."

"You accuse me of telling lies? You wound me. I am a bard, my friend, and a champion of the truth." He ignored Solaufein's snort. "If the fact passed my lips that my reticent companion was a famed swordsman and hero, a master of the curved blade, where is the lie in that?" His eyes crinkled. "It is no fault of mine if the uninformed leap to false conclusions."

"Do you think this is helpful? If Drizzt Do'Urden comes to kick my ass, I'm going to turn and kick yours."

"If you think you can." Haer'Dalis grinned. "Tell me, my contentious raven, do you have a whetstone handy? I seem to have misplaced mine."

"In my pack on the right side, there's a packet of tools." After a moment of small rustles, Solaufein turned on his side to watch the tiefling. "Shall I fetch it out? I do not wish for you to turn my pack into a rat's nest like your own."

Haer'Dalis grimaced and yanked out his hand. "Faugh, what foul thing is this?"

"What are you talking about? I don't smell anything."

"How can you not?"

Solaufein rolled out of the hammock and padded over on bare feet. "Are you making game of me, tiefling?"

"This little leather bundle—what's inside? I tell you true, when my fingers brushed it, my very flesh crawled." Haer'Dalis gave a dramatic shiver.

"Oh, that." Solaufein pulled out the bundle and peeled back the calfskin to show a glint of gold. "'Tis my luck charm. Don't you remember when I won it from the gambler we met in Watcher's Keep?"

"Do you speak of Aesgareth, the cambion?"

"_Xa_. I won the charm from him in a game of chance and at that moment, both our lucks changed. Immediately afterwards I won from him the blade I use today, one of the finest scimitars I've seen. I tell you true, Do'Urden has no better. The cambion named it the Spectral Brand."

"I admit your sword is fine although I submit there is something fey and uncanny about it. But this charm is beyond uncanny. I did not sense this fetid power three or four years ago when we traveled together. How can you bear to have it near you? Do you truly feel nothing when you touch it?"

"_Nau_." But Haer'Dalis caught his frown.

"You do feel something."

"I said I do not." He wrapped the charm back in the leather and thrust it deep into his pack. "But I used to wear it as an amulet. Now I just keep it near. While I was in Suldanesselar, Elhan—you remember him?"

"The elven warlord?"

"_Xa_. He offered to try to rid me of my curse, as he called it. To be honest, I thought he wished to take my luck charm for himself."

"You thought he meant to rob you? Why would he do that? You were one of the saviors of his city."

Solaufein stared. "Why wouldn't he, if he wanted it? I refused him, of course."

"Of course," Haer'Dalis sighed.

"I knew he did not like nor trust me."

"No doubt the feeling was mutual."

"_Xa_."

"Despite the fact that we all fought side by side against Jon Irenicus."

"There are many I have fought side by side with whom I do not trust. I am drow. To trust is—what is the word—aberrant."

* * *

Solaufein wrinkled his nose at the fish-stench of the docks while Haer'Dalis spoke to the captain. Even in the middle of the night, the wharves were a cacophony of shouts and the rumble of cartwheels, a shifting crowd of dock workers, sailors, and others whose role was less discernable. They weren't all human either; Solaufein saw dwarves and elves and more than one hulking half-orc. He had been awed by the high cliffs that protected the seaward side of the city, with Mount Waterdeep looming overhead. The sailors told him to listen for mermen singing in the harbor but he'd heard nothing. There were lights high up on the mountain. A watch tower, the captain had told them, with an aerie to house the griffon steeds used by aerial patrol squads. That would be something to see, Solaufein thought. He wondered if they flew at night.

He could see little of the huge Trollwall that surrounded the city, only the guard towers, but he was prepared to be impressed. He was less than impressed by the slovenly wooden buildings here in the Dock Ward.

"I wish I could spare you an escort," the captain told Haer'Dalis. "But the Yawning Portal is not far from here. Take my advice and don't stray from the main streets. Look, you can see Fish Street from here. Take it, turn left onto Snail Street and watch for Rainrun. The inn's a big stone building with a slate roof. You can't miss it."

"What of these wandering monsters I've heard tell of?" Haer'Dalis asked. "Should we be wary?"

"You should be wary but stray monsters are the least of your problems." The captain grinned. "Any monster that wanders into the docks had best bring a lot of friends and hold onto his purse. I suggest you gentlemen do the same."

The rare street lamps cast pools of light that were swallowed by the darkness of the evening. Solaufein watched Haer'Dalis swivel his head about in the curious bird-like manner he remembered from their traveling days. His eyes were dark and wide. Solaufein knew the tiefling couldn't see in complete darkness but in the dim light he did very well, for a surfacer. He needed a quick stride to keep up with his longer-legged companion but it felt good to stretch his legs after being confined on the boat for half a ten-day. They walked in silence but Solaufein saw no sign of the muggers or alley-bashers the captain had warned them about. In fact, the streets seemed curiously empty.

The Yawning Portal had a solid look to it at odds with the ramshackle buildings they'd passed in Dock Ward. When they stepped into the common room, the fug of crowded bodies, cooking smells and smoke hit Solaufein like a smothering blanket. Where the streets had been empty, the inn was packed. The roar of voices abated somewhat when they entered, making Solaufein feel unpleasantly self-conscious. He pulled his hood closer around his face.

Haer'Dalis brightened as he scanned the room. "Let us see if we can find this Durnan, who is organizing the assault on Undermountain." He pushed his way to the bar, a reluctant Solaufein in his wake, and signaled for the busy barkeep's attention. All the seats were occupied. Almost everyone was human. Haer'Dalis squeezed near the bar beside a white-haired old lady, who sat straight-backed on her barstool as if it was a throne. She gave the tiefling a sharp and unwelcoming look. Haer'Dalis affected not to notice but Solaufein caught his sideways glance and the twitch of his mouth. His alien features, bluish hair, and prominent facial scars were no novelty in Athkatla, where he was well-known.

While they waited, Solaufein asked, "Who is this Durnan?"

"He is the owner of this inn," Haer'Dalis said.

"An innkeeper is leading the city's attack?" Haer'Dalis gave a graceful shrug. "Why? This city seems well-defended," Solaufein continued. "I don't understand why they could not find a warrior or someone better qualified—"

"Perhaps, stranger, you are unaware that Durnan knows Undermountain better than anyone in this city," the old lady said. She turned on her seat. Solaufein feared her gimlet eyes could penetrate the cover of his hood. "When you and that fiendish companion of yours—aye, I know what you are," she said when Haer'Dalis stiffened. "I could smell the stench of your demonic blood when you entered the room." She glared at them both. "When you have spent half the time in the dark places under the earth as Durnan, and survived them, then you may criticize him. Until then, keep your ill-informed mouths shut in my hearing."

Solaufein's derisive snort was quiet but audible. For a moment Haer'Dalis, alarmed, thought the woman was going to strike him. He could sense unwelcome attention from the drinkers around them. "Easy, mistress, we meant no offense."

"Save your soft words and easy smiles, demon. These are dark times and we need those who will bring light to them, not mischief makers and fools." With a final scowl and an air of royalty withdrawing, she swept out of the room.

"You put your foot in it, mate," the barkeep said. His voice was casual but his eyes were hard. "That there was Mhaere, paladin of Tyr. She don't like your kind."

"Ah," Haer'Dalis said. "That explains—"

"And she's Durnan's wife. We're all a bit touchy here these days, mate. Durnan was due back hours ago, which don't help nothing."

"Where is he?"

"If we knew that, she wouldn't be fretting now, would she? Prolly just got caught out by the curfew but with Durnan, hard to say. Don't have the sense to know he's too old to still be adventuring now, do he?" He leaned over the bar and dropped his voice. "Suggest you two leg it on out of here now, curfew or naught. If Mistress Mhaere don't like you, there ain't a soul in this place going to like you."

"Now what?" Solaufein asked, once they were back on Rainrun Street.

"Find another inn for starts," Haer'Dalis said. "Damned unfortunate, that. The inn is built over an opening to Undermountain and we need that portal. I didn't even get the chance to see it. I'm sorry, Solaufein, that my blood—"

"Your demon blood, my black face—I'm not sure why either of us should apologize for what we are. But what of this curfew? What does it mean?"

"Must be new since the captain knew nothing of it. I suppose it means the City Watch will arrest us if they see us on the streets."

"Then they won't see us. So where are we going? We passed a number of inns on the way here."

"Do you wish to listen to the raucous songs of sailors and smell fish guts all night long? Nor do I. The better inns are on the north side of the city, or so I am told."

"Then let us head north."

"And if we should catch some of the sights, I would not take it amiss. This Castle Waterdeep on the hill before us is a marvel, I am sure, but I would like to see more of the city. If we should happen to pass New Olamn, I would be pleased."

"A festhall?" Solaufein guessed.

"No, my cynical raven, it is the famous bard college of Waterdeep. Had I a letter of introduction, I might try their hospitality even at this late hour. Despite what that harridan of Tyr claimed, I am sure there are others with knowledge of Undermountain who could aid us. But let us find an inn first and see what the morrow brings."

"Is there no way to the Underdark than through Undermountain? That feels like a mere diversion to me. My dream—" Solaufein stopped and drew back his hood. His sensitive ears swiveled. _Wait_, he signaled in the drow hand speech. The tiefling's ears also pricked forward. He thought he heard the distant sound of the clash of arms.

"A duergar battle cry," the drow said. Solaufein ran forward, silent and swift as death itself.

**Drow words used:**

_abbil_—friend  
_darthiir_—surface elf  
_draa velve_—drow fighting style using two blades, requires great training and physical ability  
_nau_—no  
_xa_—yes (slang for _xas_)


	3. Raids on Knowledge

**3…Raids on Knowledge**

When Haer'Dalis raced around the corner, he saw no duergar, only a ragged line of goblins attacking a half dozen Watchmen armed with truncheons and bucklers. Rather scrawny and unimpressive for the fearsome denizens of Undermountain, he thought, as he dropped his pack and travel cloak and drew his twin swords. There were perhaps twenty of the little beasts, several of them already down, but they pressed forward in an attempt to swarm the Watchmen. Their eyes were wild and desperate. _Why so few?_ _What could they hope to accomplish? And where's Solaufein? Preparing to strike from the deepest shadow, no doubt._ Haer'Dalis felt a familiar surge of excitement as he ran forward to the aid of Watch.

And then he heard the twang of crossbows. I should have put up my spell protections, he thought. His enchanted armor would probably turn a bolt but it didn't cover his entire body. Glass shattered and burning oil ran down the lamppost to his right. The bolts were aimed for the streetlights, he realized. What would have been an easy victory for the men of Waterdeep shifted, in the chaotic way of fights everywhere. One of the Watchmen blew a loud whistle, presumably to summon reinforcements.

"Take heart, men, these vermin won't hold us long," Haer'Dalis shouted. Knowing he could see better than the night-blind humans, he swept along the rear of the goblin's line to attack the one who looked to be the group's leader. He (or she—Haer'Dalis was uncertain how to ascertain a goblin's gender) was the only one with a metal helm. He jabbed with a sword instead of the clubs and short spears the others carried. But the goblin was no swordsman. Haer'Dalis parried his clumsy attack with his sword Entropy and thrust Chaos into his shoulder, piercing his flimsy leather vest. The goblin staggered from the force of the blade's magic. Before he could recover, the tiefling kicked him in the chest and spun to face his next opponent.

"Don't strike a light," he shouted when he saw one of the Watchmen fumble with a hand lantern. "You will make yourself a target." The archers were the true danger; the goblins were here to prevent the Watchmen from taking cover. He whirled to clear a space around him then cast a cantrip on the nearest lamppost, limning it with a white blaze. Another volley of crossbow bolts fired, accompanied by a hoarse scream that Haer'Dalis assumed was Solaufein's work. Several Watchmen were wounded, at least one seriously with a bolt through the upper thigh. One goblin took an unlucky shot in the back of the head from one of the snipers. He dropped like a sack of sand. A Watchman smashed a goblin skull; Haer'Dalis slashed the face and shoulder of another, who screamed at the touch of Entropy's magical poison. At that, the goblins scattered except for one who was surrounded. He raised his hands, either to ward off a blow or to surrender, but the Watchmen didn't give him time to speak. They struck him down like a sewer rat.

"My thanks, stranger," one of the Watchmen said but Haer'Dalis gave a quick smile and disappeared. Under the cover of his invisibility spell, he worked his way towards the house where the shots had come from. There was a dead duergar on the small porch. The window shutters were open, both downstairs and up. The front door opened at a touch, the lock broken. Three dead duergar lay in their blood on the first floor. The house was silent. There were three more dead dwarves upstairs, their presence the only sign that Solaufein had been here. _How I hate these hunts in the dark_. In the two upstairs bedrooms, he found what remained of the family: two adults in the front room and a toddler in a trundle bed. They'd had their throats cut in their sleep, by the looks of it. He found the bodies of an old woman and another young child in the other bedroom. She, at least, had put up a fight but not much of one, Haer'Dalis guessed. His mouth turned down. _Where was Solaufein?_

At the end of the hall, a short ladder led to the roof. He had to turn his shoulders to fit through the narrow opening. He could only spare a glance at the two bodies still in their bed rolls—_the older children, sleeping on the roof for the cooling breeze. _His eye was caught by the globe of darkness that hung near the flimsy rail at the edge of the roof. His ears heard the slightest scuffle of feet. _I found him. Should I dispel this darkness to join in the fight?_ Before he could act, the decision was made for him. Solaufein stepped from the unnatural darkness, blood fresh on his blade. Haer'Dalis saw no wounds upon him. Like many warriors, Solaufein was often taken by a sort of battle rage and would fight unaware of any injury. He let his invisibility drop. Solaufein showed no surprise at his presence. _Sharp-eared elf, he always hears me._

"This one was their leader," Solaufein said. He took a breath and released it slowly. Letting the rage drain away, Haer'Dalis thought. As the darkness dissipated, Haer'Dalis saw a drow lying face down on the roof. Solaufein knelt by the body. He lifted the head by the hair to look upon his face and then spent a longer time studying the insignia on the man's cloak.

"A male from House Kilath," Solaufein said.

"And that signifies?"

"They are a minor house from Menzoberranzan, if I'm not mistaken."

"Did he tell you why they are here?"

"We didn't stop to bandy words." A pity, Haer'Dalis thought. At a sound from the stairwell, Solaufein stepped back and pulled up his hood. One of the Watchmen poked his head up through the roof opening.

"The raiders are dead," Haer'Dalis told him.

"That is good to hear," he said, coming up onto the roof and looking around. He took a long breath at the sight of the children's bodies. He strode to the dead drow. His boot lashed out and kicked him hard in the face. Solaufein accepted this casual brutality without a blink but Haer'Dalis winced at the crunch of broken teeth. At his look, the Watchman said, "One of these monsters killed my brother four days ago." He looked down into the street below. "My sergeant wants to speak to you two."

Haer'Dalis looked a question at Solaufein, who gave a reluctant hand signal of assent. Somewhat to his surprise, the sergeant was a woman. She wore a hardened leather breastplate and a cloak to show her rank.

"My men tell me you came to their aid," she said with no preamble. "Many thanks for that. Who are you? And what brings you out after curfew?"

With a small bow, Haer'Dalis gave their names. "We arrived this evening from Athkatla, in response to the bulletin put out by the Lords of Waterdeep. We were unaware of this curfew."

"Adventurers, are you? Your ship?"

"The Sea Star."

"And her captain?"

"Turmak Caspin is his name."

The sergeant nodded in recognition. Haer'Dalis realized her questions were a test. "This is not the first time a Watch patrol has been ambushed," she said. "They strike with no purpose."

"They have a purpose," Solaufein said.

"Do they, stranger? And what is that?"

"To test your defenses? To sow panic and chaos? I do not know their purpose but it is naïve to assume they have none."

The sergeant grunted. "Let me tell you, my friend with the hood, that naiveté is not something I am oft accused of." One of her men smothered a chuckle. "I would see your face, stranger."

"I doubt you'd find it much to your liking."

"Indeed? I would prefer to judge for myself."

"I would prefer to let my actions speak for me."

"At the moment, they speak of evasiveness." When Solaufein made no move to drop his hood, she frowned. "Have it your way then. I have no more time to waste here. Although I appreciate your help, I will tell you square that I am not in favor of unauthorized adventurers roaming the streets at night. We will handle these drow raids. Durnan the Wanderer is organizing the search of Undermountain to locate the source of these attacks. You are to report to him at the Yawning Portal. If you do not know where that is, any Watchman can direct you. Do not take it upon yourselves to interfere with the defense of the city. That is best left to the Watch and the City Guard. Do I make myself clear?"

"Certainly but—"

The sergeant turned away from Haer'Dalis as a Watchman ran towards them.

"Sergeant Tenna, Eltorchul Academy is under attack," he panted.

"Damn it! Chanter, you stay with the wounded. Take cover in one of these houses until we can send a cart for you." She pointed at Haer'Dalis. "You two stay—"

"Let us come with you," he said. "We can help."

"On your own heads be it."

* * *

"You'd think these mages could defend themselves," one of the Watchmen muttered. Haer'Dalis frowned. The wards on the walls had been blasted away. Ashy smears were what remained of the guards in the courtyard of the school. Mages—students and instructors both, still in their nightclothes, lay where they had been struck down. They'd had little warning. He could still smell the stench of brimstone and strong magic.

When they'd arrived, a squad of duergar armed with clubs and crossbows held off the Watch while a half dozen drow, wizards amongst them, escaped despite Solaufein's attempts to hinder them. Haer'Dalis's spells had no effect on the dark elves. An enemy mage summoned an earth elemental, squat but potent, to cover their retreat. One of the surviving instructors added his spells to the tiefling's and they brought the creature down.

Once the elemental collapsed into rubble, the gray-haired man slumped against the nearest wall.

"Mystra help us, why would they do such a thing? So many slain, some little more than children. Why is such wickedness allowed in the world?"

"Two of the mages carried something away," Solaufein said. His breath came in short huffs. The elemental had slammed him hard against the wall and had done its best to punch out his knee.

Sergeant Tenna strode into the hall. "Master Arne, are you hurt? I've sent for a healer. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Assassins! They came while we slept. How did they get past the wards?" The initial explosions took them out, Haer'Dalis thought. Perhaps they used a Silence spell to cover the sound of their entry. "The drow entered the West Wing, killed Denfer and Trude outright," Arne continued. "They rounded some of us up—me and Cara and old Winfrey. They—they knew who we were! They asked for the books—the books of names. All our research—they knew! They knew what we'd been working on. How could they have known?"

"A scrying spell?" Haer'Dalis suggested.

"We are warded against scrying. How could they know? Cara didn't want to give it to them—the names, all the True Names we have gathered. And they—they—" Arne gave a sob of fear and horror. "After what they did to her, we gathered up the books, the scrolls, the letters from truenamers across Faerun. We gave them what they wanted. Everything they wanted."

"Names?" Tenna asked. "What were these names they wanted?"

"The True Names," Arne said.

Tenna jerked forward in alarm. "Not the names of the Masked Lords? Torm help us, you mages haven't written those down, have you?"

Arne's eyes were bleary and confused. "No, no. These are not the names of humans."

"Names of summoning?" Solaufein asked.

"The True Names can be used for summoning, yes, but they are much more than that. They are the names of making and unmaking—the True Names, the names by which one knows one's very self. Over many years, by divination and other means, we have unraveled the True Names of demons and devils and other creatures as well. Those drow knew of our work. They rounded us up, all of us truenamers but Sobrey, who is at New Olamn tonight. They killed the others and would have killed me too, if not for him." He pointed at Solaufein and shuddered again. "Ilmater have mercy! Cara, poor Cara. What they did to her!" He slid down to the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees. "Oh, why don't the just gods wipe these wicked drow from the face of the earth?"

"They did that once," Solaufein murmured.

"What's the name of this mage you mentioned?" Sergeant Tenna asked. "Master Sobrey?" The wizard nodded. "I'll send a runner to New Olamn to warn them of this attack and see to his safety."

Solaufein and Haer'Dalis followed her into the courtyard. She gave them the side of her eye but beckoned to one of her men. "Head back to the Watchpost," she told him, "Report what happened here. Tell the Watch Commander I'm staying with the squad to help the survivors. Get a message to the North post to look for trouble at New Olamn. Tell them to safeguard a mage by the name of Sobrey, who is a visitor there. He's possibly a target. Damn it. Could these fool mages have brought this whole attack on Waterdeep because they couldn't stop from meddling in other people's secrets?"

"That's what mages do," Haer'Dalis said.

"Oh, aye. And if they only risked themselves in their lofty pursuits of knowledge, they could do so with my goodwill." She took a breath and turned back to the Watchman. "Take these two adventurers with you and see that they get to an inn or some safe place to wait out the curfew." Haer'Dalis opened his mouth. "I hope you're not planning on arguing with me," she said. She looked up at the sky. "Looks like a long dark night ahead of us and I'm not in the mood."

The Castle Ward Watchpost was packed and everyone there was shouting, or so it seemed to Haer'Dalis. The booming and belligerent voice that caught his attention came from a white-haired fellow who leaned over the front counter and thrust his face toward the Watch Commander. He had a gauze bandage tied around his head and across one ear. He held a walking cane and used it to thump the side of the counter.

"I'm not yet in my dotage and I do not need a nursemaid to walk me home," he bellowed.

"I'm sorry, sir, but my orders—"

"Your orders are not my problem. I have orders of my own, young man, and I'll be hanged if I'll have you keep me from my duty. Not to mention that you're keeping me from my dinner and from my wife. You don't want her down here looking for me, now do you?"

"No, Durnan, but you've been injured and—"

"Bah, I'm leaving. Arrest me for breaking curfew if you dare."

Haer'Dalis saw his Watchman guide exchange a sympathetic glance with the Watch Commander.

"Master Durnan, if you're headed to the Yawning Portal, could I get you to escort these strangers?" the Watchman said. "My sergeant told me to see they get to an inn."

"They violated curfew?" the Watch Commander asked with a frown.

"They helped save the squad from an ambush," he replied. "And they also helped us with the fighting at Eltorchul Academy."

"The academy was attacked?" Durnan asked.

"Aye. The sergeant said we was to warn New Olamn. Looks like the drow might be after magical books and such."

"Too late," Durnan said. "I just came from New Olamn and yes, there was an attack. Curse these drow. They move through the city like it's theirs. They killed several of the bards before we drove them off."

Haer'Dalis looked at Solaufein but his hood hid his eyes. "They must be after these True Names," he said quietly. "Do you have any idea why?"

"No more than you do."

"I need to make my report," the Watchman told his commander. "The sergeant will have my ass if I don't see that these men find a safe place to stay."

"Fine," Durnan said. "I'll take them." He narrowed his eyes at the Watchman. "I suppose you think you're being clever." Durnan stomped out of the Watchpost. Out in the street, he turned to Haer'Dalis. "So who are you two? Adventurers, I suppose."

Haer'Dalis nodded. "We've come from Athkatla."

"Athkatla, eh? Well, that was quick. I wouldn't have thought there was time for the notice to have reached that far out. Here for the reward, are you?"

"Reward?" Solaufein asked.

"Aye, the hundred thousand dragons the Lords of Waterdeep have offered to whoever stops these attacks on the city."

"Dragons?"

"The local coin," Haer'Dalis murmured.

"Ah. So much? Then that would be a logical motivation, yes?"

"And we must be logical," the bard said, with a huff of amusement. "Only fools would enter a besieged city because of a dream." Durnan, tall and straight-backed despite his age, looked at him and then down at the top of Solaufein's head. Solaufein, who had never stopped scanning the surroundings, did not notice but Haer'Dalis saw the innkeeper's frown. "Before we get to your inn, I should mention that we seem to have run somewhat afoul of your wife."

"Did you now? And how did that happen?"

"I believe it was my mixed blood she found objectionable. I am a tiefling," he explained. "I am Haer'Dalis, originally from Sigil."

"A tiefling. Don't see many of your type here in Waterdeep. Huh. Demon blood don't sit too well with a paladin of Tyr. Draw steel on you, did she?"

"No, of course not."

"Then I suppose I needn't do so yet."

Haer'Dalis couldn't tell if he was joking. "After we exchanged words, some of the others asked that we leave."

"In the middle of curfew? She must have been some riled. And what about you there? Hiding a tail beneath that heavy cloak? Set of horns maybe?"

"No." At Durnan's expectant look, he added, "I am not a tiefling. My name is Solaufein."

"Solaufein. Are you also from Sigil?"

"No."

Durnan gave him a chance to elaborate. When he didn't, Haer'Dalis said, "My friend is a bit reticent."

"That so? Haer'Dalis. An uncommon name but I have heard it before."

"I am a bard and dramatist but this is my first time in the City of Splendors."

"A dramatist?" For a moment, Haer'Dalis thought he was going to laugh. "Nay, I've heard that name in another context, I'm thinking. Were you not one of the Butchers of Saradush?"

Haer'Dalis gave him a sharp look. "We were cleared of that charge."  
"Aye, I'm aware of that. So you traveled with the Bhaalspawn, did you?"

"For a time."

"Is she coming to Waterdeep as well?"

"Not that I know."

"Pity. She has a way of cutting through problems that could be of use to us. At any rate, I'd say your adventuring credentials are in order. I daresay you have a tale or two to tell."

"Don't encourage him if you value your ears," Solaufein said.

"As a bard, I need very little encouragement to tell a tale," Haer'Dalis said.

"As in none," Solaufein said.

"I'm sure I'd like to hear your stories. But first, I'm thinking I'd like to hear your reticent friend's tale."

"I, too, traveled with the Bhaalspawn for a time."

"Yet your name is curiously lacking from the accounts I have heard, unless you travel under an alias."

"Solaufein is the name I was born with."

"And what of the face you were born with? I would look into the eyes of a man I may end up fighting beside. Have you aught to hide?"

"As much as any man and more than most, I suspect."

"Outlaw, are you?"

"I am outcast from my people, yes."

"For what cause? Are you a murderer? Oath breaker? Blasphemer?"

"I am that and more. That makes me no enemy of yours, but your ally." Solaufein pushed back his hood. Haer'Dalis kept his hands near the hilts of his swords and waited for Durnan's reaction.

"I am here in the service of Eilistraee. In a dream, She urged me to come to this city and stand against the threat that comes from the Underdark. I offer my aid, if you will accept it."

"What do you know of this threat?"

Solaufein shrugged. "It comes. Whatever it is, it can be faced with force of arms or She would not have sent me. Fighting is my only skill."

"You are modest," Haer'Dalis murmured.

"And you, tiefling? Do you also claim to be here under divine guidance?"

"Nay, I am here because of the bonds of friendship."

"And the chance for glory and treasure, no doubt?"

"Should the opportunity for either present itself, I would not say it nay."

"Well, now." He looked down into Solaufein's face. Blue eyes met red. "I am not unacquainted with the followers of Eilistraee. I can see how you might offer us a unique perspective against these invaders. If you are willing to subject yourself to the approval of my lady wife then I am willing to have you in my inn. We're almost there and I daresay she still waits up for me." With a sniff, he added, "Until then, you should keep your face covered lest you be mistaken for an enemy."

Solaufein had already begun to raise his hood but he stopped and cocked his head.

"I hear screams," he said. "And fighting."

Durnan pressed a catch on his cane. The wooden sheath dropped off to expose a sword. "Tis a wicked night for fighting," he said grimly. "Lead us to it, drow."


	4. The Fight for the Well

_Author's Note: This chapter took longer than expected, between scenes that needed a lot of rework (and probably still do) and my new time sink: Dragon Age, which I bought as a reward for surviving NaNoWriMo._

**4…The Fight for the Well**

"Nine wicked hells," Durnan swore, as the three ran down Rainrun Street. "That racket's coming from my inn!"

When he flung open the doors, the common room was empty. Or so it seemed until a head peeked around the corner of the bar.

"What happened, Luranla?" Durnan asked.

"They're coming through the well," the woman said. She crouched behind the bar and flinched at a loud war cry that echoed up the stairwell to the right. "Drow and them gray dwarves. Mhaere and the guests are holding them off."

"How are they getting up the well? How did they get past the wards? Damn it, we'll figure it out later." He ran behind the bar and pulled down a sheathed greatsword. He flung the sheath and his sword cane onto the counter. Solaufein and Haer'Dalis dropped their packs and cloaks.

"A drow?"Luranla gasped when she saw Solaufein's face. They ignored her.

"Come on," Durnan said. "The well's downstairs."

Why this vast pit, some forty feet in diameter, was called a well, Solaufein had no idea. On one side was a crane. A huge globe of darkness hung over the far edge of the well. _That's where they're coming up_. From his vantage on the steps, the pit looked endlessly deep.

While Solaufein paused to scan the unfamiliar room, Durnan charged down the stairs. Someone had smashed the lamps to cloak the room in darkness but a strong white magical light shone from the hands of Durnan's wife, the paladin. A score of duergar engaged an uncoordinated group of adventurers. A few defenders wore armor but most looked like they'd come from their beds. Several had fallen; more were injured. A red-haired lass in a yellow nightgown sang a battle tune in a penetrating voice. The half dozen drow spread around the room included two male spellcasters and a priestess. The barbed heads of her flail dripped blood. He heard Haer'Dalis beside him chant a protection spell.

"He is here! The old human! Slay him quickly," the priestess shouted in the drow tongue. She pointed at Durnan. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Solaufein. "Reinforcements? This is my kill, male."

"Watch out, Durnan!" Solaufein shouted. "They're after you."

The two mages in the back of the room, protected by the line of duergar, swiveled to face them. One mage raised his hands. Lightning blasted across the room. Durnan dropped to the floor but Solaufein didn't know if he'd dodged or been hit. The other mage started his chant. _A fireball here would be a disaster._ _I'll never cut through in time_.

"Awaken, blade!" From the hilt of his scimitar, a chill ran up his arm. A shimmering white phantasm, the ghost of the Spectral Brand, separated itself from his blade. He pointed his scimitar at the furthest mage. The sword ghost shot across the room towards him. Solaufein followed. Running, he leapt on top of the only trestle table still standing and used it to launch himself over the heads of the squat duergar. He hit the nearest mage feet first and knocked him to the floor. Solaufein sprang up before the mage could recover his breath and kicked him hard in the temple. Pain roared through his foot. _To kick mages to death, I need heavier boots_.

He sprang forward to attack the other mage, who was attempting to fend off the ghost blade with his staff. He gave the mage a sharp chop with his hilt, not wanting to dull his edge on his stoneskin. The force of the blow sent a jolt up his arm. The mage staggered back. Solaufein pressed him hard with a leg sweep that the mage evaded. Before he could slash again, something hit him across the neck and shoulder blades hard enough to drive the edge of his armor into his skin. He whirled. The priestess's flail was already in motion for a second stroke. He jumped back and bumped into the mage. Instinct had him jerk his head to the side. His free hand grabbed the mage's sleeve and yanked him forward. One head of the flail passed over his head so close that a barb scraped his scalp and ripped out a hank of his hair; another of the viciously spiked balls hit the mage's face and cracked through his protections. Blood flew.

The woman snarled and pressed forward. _Now would be a good time for a shield._ Even a cloak would be helpful to tangle her weapon but he'd left it upstairs. Solaufein took two steps back, stepped on something soft—the dead mage's leg—and turned his stumble into a lunge at the woman's arm. He didn't do much damage but he threw her off her rhythm. She recovered quickly. She was good.

"Who are you?" she said. "One of the rebels?" He didn't answer. Her lip pulled back. "Eilistraeen scum," she hissed. "Worthless male." She raised her arm.

Solaufein felt his own lip curl back. The ache in his back, the screams of the wounded, the smell of blood and fear—they swirled through him like the taste of black lotus to an addict. Rage. His eyes flared red. _Die, black-hearted bitch. I have had enough of your kind_.

He fought. In a haze of blood and darkness, he fought.

Time moved in jerks and stops, as it did when the battle rage took him. He had a vague awareness that Haer'Dalis, with cool precision, scythed through duergar behind him. He fought. He fought until no one stood against him. When he killed the second mage and the priestess bled from several wounds, she cursed and shouted for her remaining fighters to retreat.

From somewhere behind him, Solaufein heard the aged paladin call upon Tyr's name. The globe of darkness at the back of the room dissipated to expose a large floating disk made of pale stone. Three of the duergar leapt onto it. The paladin shouted again and dispelled the magic that held the disc. The disk hurtled to the ground below. The priestess ran to the pit. She glared at Solaufein.

"Your dying screams will be sweet to hear," she said. "I will hear them soon." She stepped over the edge of the pit just as the stone and its riders hit with a thunderous crash. Solaufein and Haer'Dalis ran forward and leaned over, to see her float down into the darkness of the well. Haer'Dalis grabbed his arm as he swayed at the edge.

"Be careful, my raven. Yon pit is deep. Should you fall, you'd have time to regret all the mistakes of your life."

Solaufein took a breath. _It's over. For now_. "I doubt it's that deep," he said at last.

Haer'Dalis chuckled. "Or perhaps you can go after her? Can you travel on the air as she does?"

"No," Solaufein said. He'd once had the power to levitate but his years on the surface had drained away the magic he'd absorbed from the _faerzress,_ the natural radiation of the Underdark.

The remaining two duergar refused to surrender and were cut down by the other adventurers. Solaufein felt the stares of the defenders as he followed Haer'Dalis. They found Durnan prone on the floor with an elf in a plain blue shift on her knees beside him. There was blood on her hands and matted in her hair. The paladin ran to them.

"He lives, Mhaere," the elf said. "He was stunned by the drow's magic. I do not believe he is badly hurt."

"You've been hurt yourself, Linu."

The elf looked at her with vague eyes. "Oh. Have I been?"

Mhaere beckoned to one of the men. "Rouse the stablemen if they aren't already up," she said. "Go to the temple and fetch the Suneite. White Thesta, she is called."

"I can heal him," the elf protested.

"Yes but others have been hurt as well. Thesta has been promised to us to help during the assault on Undermountain. She might as well get an early start. Given what has just happened, we may all need to work quicker than we thought." She turned back to her hireling. "Give Thesta an escort here and then go to the Watch Commander. Tell him what happened. See if he can spare some Watchmen to help us secure the well, lest these attackers return. Have you got all that?"

"Aye, mistress," the man said.

"Have one of the boys bring a couple of lanterns. The cursed drow wish to keep us in darkness, it seems." She looked up and spotted Haer'Dalis. "Trust a tiefling to show up when there's trouble," she said but without heat. Her eyes moved to Solaufein.

The bard gave a small bow. "We came with Durnan."

"So I gather. Had you come just a bit later and kept him from harm, I would have been better pleased. Although you did much to drive back the invaders, for which I thank you. A tiefling and a dark elf. Why were you with my husband?"

Since her eyes were still on him, Solaufein answered. "Durnan said I was to submit myself to your judgment. I am here to help."

"Aye, sounds like him, to drop a problem in my lap." She pursed her lips. "Very well, elf, I sense no great evil about you. Nor about you, demon-spawn," she said, turning her head towards Haer'Dalis. "You may stay. And help, if you can. You already have."

Linu finished her healing chant with a satisfied look. She touched the back of the innkeeper's hand. "Why would they wish to attack Durnan?"

"Other prominent citizens have been assassinated," Mhaere said. "They must know of his role in coordinating the counterattack. Or perhaps—" She stopped and frowned.

"They know much of what happens in the city," said the red-haired woman. Blood splattered the shoulder of her nightgown.

Durnan opened his eyes and with a grunt, sat up. "They know too much," he said. He caught his wife's eye. The depth of the look that passed between them made Solaufein avert his gaze. "They strike with clear purpose. The drow attacked both the bard college and Eltorchul Academy tonight," he said. "They knew exactly what they were looking for. They seek both individuals and artifacts and go directly for them."

"How? A spell of divination?" Linu asked.

"Possibly so."

Haer'Dalis shook his head. "Divination spells work none too well from the Underdark."

"And it is worse in Undermountain," Durnan said. "Halaster's magic seeps through the whole area. The spells of others go awry there."

"A spy, then," Mhaere said flatly. Several sets of eyes swiveled to Solaufein.

"Or Halaster is aiding these drow," Haer'Dalis said.

"If he was, things would go hard for us. Halaster makes a powerful enemy. But I find that unlikely," Durnan said. "He hates drow. To work with them—no. I don't see it."

"Perhaps in his madness," Mhaere began.

"He's mad, aye, but Halaster never forgets a grudge," Durnan said.

"He's aiding them, either directly or indirectly," Mhaere said, with an air of continuing an ongoing argument. "Never before have drow forces passed so freely through Undermountain. Never before have his monsters wandered loose into the city."

Durnan shrugged. "I'm not saying you're wrong. We must find him and ask him. Then we will know."

* * *

"I won't be going with you," Durnan said to the crowded room of adventurers, although no one (except possibly himself) expected such a thing. "I'm sure you have all heard that Undermountain is famed as the world's greatest mass grave of adventurers. It is a dangerous place and no mistake. Do not venture too far! Our goal is to verify the maps I have given each group of you and to search for signs of the drow."

Solaufein glared when the kobold beside him almost trod upon his boot. The kobold, still nervous from their unpleasant encounter at breakfast, skittered away. Solaufein had seen a movement in the shadows. He whirled out of his seat, caught the kobold and slammed him up against the wall. The kobold's terrified shriek rose in pitch when the fighter drew his dagger.

"Hey!" The waitress ran over. "There's no fighting allowed amongst the guests."

"Are you saying this creature is a guest in this inn?"

The kobold kicked his feet and, with Solaufein's shift of attention, managed to squirm out of his hold.

"Deekin being guest here," the kobold squeaked. "Being here longer than you."

"But kobolds are vermin." The waitress flinched away from the glare in Solaufein's red eyes.

"He's an adventurer. Some of the others vouch for him."

"Is that so? Then why is he lurking and spying from the shadows?"

"Deekin no spy," the kobold said indignantly. "Strong light bad on Deekin's eyes. Deekin's a writer. Has to be able to see." He took a couple of prudent steps back and scowled. "Deekin don't like being pushed around for no reason. Maybe you be spy, black-faced elf."

Beside him, Haer'Dalis laughed. "He has a point, my raven. Do we not find you in the shadows more often than not?"

Solaufein had pointedly returned to his breakfast.

He was less than pleased when Haer'Dalis invited the little kobold to travel with them.

"He's been picking Durnan's brains about Undermountain for the last ten-day," Haer'Dalis explained. "Studied his maps, listened to his tales. He has a journal full of notes. And he's an experienced adventurer. He's the one who wrote that Undrentide book, did you know?"

"What book?"

"Deekin famous," the kobold said.

"Don't they read in Suldanesselar?" Haer'Dalis asked. "The book was quite popular in Athkatla. Fancy, he actually walked the streets of the last of the great flying Netherese cities."

"Scary when it rose up out of the sand," Deekin said. "Scarier when it fell back down. Somehow Deekin not get squashed."

"You'd better watch yourself or you will get squashed here in Waterdeep," Solaufein muttered. "Must we take this stinking little rat along?"

"I'm sure he'll be useful," Haer'Dalis said.

"Deekin not stink! Drow not have good nose." And in a voice he perhaps thought inaudible, he added, "Drow not smell like roses, oh no. Drow maybe not find bathhouse last night." At Solaufein's growl, he scuttled further behind the laughing Haer'Dalis. "But Deekin will put in new book: drow smell like beautiful flower."

"Poetic license, of course." Haer'Dalis snickered.

"Poetic lies, more like," Deekin said. "No one wants to read about a dirty smelly rude elf."

Haer'Dalis raised his brows. "So what kind of lies did you tell about the Undrentide hero?"

"No lies. Just a bit of poetics here and there. Easy to find rhyme for brave or might. Hard to find rhyme for diarrhea. Leave that part out."

"I know the problem well," Haer'Dalis said. "Whatever happened to this great hero of yours? Can we expect him to join us?"

"Don't know. Maybe invitation lost in mail. Same like my royalty check."

A squad of city watchmen had arrived very early but they would guard the well room, not descend into Undermountain. A couple of dwarven engineers worked through the night to repair the hoist mechanism, damaged during the attack. Durnan, the cleric White Thesta and the engineers went down into the pit first, to inspect the wards that should have given warning of the intruders and to check for traps or other surprises.

"And they can test the hoist for us, too," chuckled a halfling Solaufein hadn't met. "I'm too young to go splat like those dwarves last night."

Durnan assigned each group a different direction to search. He asked the three of them to explore the southern caverns. Solaufein and Deekin could see in total darkness; with a spell, Haer'Dalis could as well. Since most of the denizens of Undermountain could also see in darkness or could sense them by other means, this did not afford much in the way of safety but it did allow them to move without the beacon of torches or magical lights.

Undermountain was a concatenation of natural caves and others whose regular dimensions had clearly been crafted. "These were mines, once, before Halaster came," Deekin whispered.

"I've never heard tell of a mine so large," Haer'Dalis said.

"Very big. Very old. Halaster changed things. Summoned monsters of all types and set them to work digging and tunneling. Those orcs we passed awhile back, they was guarding one of Halaster's feeding boxes. Durnan has them marked on the map. That's how the wizard keeps all his monsters fed."

"If Halaster keeps them fed, why were the orcs roasting harpies on their cook fires?" Solaufein asked.

Deekin frowned. "They not supposed to do that. Not supposed to fight each other."

"Halaster's lost control of them," Haer'Dalis said.

Awhile later, they came across a troll battling a group of flying fey. The fey swarmed like large malevolent butterflies and fired their tiny bows at the monster. The troll roared and brushed one clawed hand at the score of glittering needles that pierced its face. One of the fliers noticed Haer'Dalis and with a musical shout, flew towards him. The other fey followed, swooping towards the startled adventurers. At the last moment, they veered for the ceiling and disappeared. The troll lumbered after them, growled and attacked its new targets.

"Those damned fey led the troll to us," Solaufein muttered, after they'd hacked it apart and Deekin finished it off with a fire bolt from his crossbow.

Deekin padded forward. "One of them dead," he said. He lifted the small body by one wing. The fey was almost as long as one of the tiefling's blades but very light. "This be called a grig," he said. "Wonder if grigs taste like chicken. Probably more like bugs." He gave the dead grig a speculative look. "Some bugs is tasty."

Haer'Dalis leaned over his shoulder for a closer look. "Put it down," he said. "Pathetic little creature, don't maul it about any further."

"You crazy? Grigs dangerous. You think big dumb troll started that fight?"

"But he's so beautiful."

Solaufein snorted. "That should be a warning right there," he said.

Haer'Dalis grinned. "Beauty is dangerous? A dire warning indeed."

"You should listen to your friend," said a voice near his ear, directly overhead. The grig's voice was too light and musical for true menace, but Haer'Dalis suspected he aimed for that effect. "Beauty is dangerous, all right. And I'm drop-dead gorgeous. Put my brother down unless you want an arrow in the eye, lizard." Deekin dropped the body. "Now get on out of here before something really, really bad happens to you. To all of you."

"You tell 'em, Sharpbriar," another grig said.

"Wait," Haer'Dalis said. "Won't you parley a moment?"

"Why?"

"We seek the drow who are using these caverns to attack the surface."

"You looking for drow? I see one right now," Sharpbriar said. He pointed his foot at Solaufein. "Search over, you can go. Haul it before I maul it."

"How droll," Haer'Dalis said. "Obviously we seek others."

"Do I look like I care?"

"Have you seen them? Do they have a camp nearby? We could reward you for this information," Haer'Dalis said.

"Look, are you tallfolk dense or something?" Haer'Dalis heard muffled giggles from the ceiling but the grigs were invisible. "If we see a bunch of drow prowling our caves, something really bad will happen to them too. Stick around, you'll find out what. First hand."

"But—" Sharpbriar swooped higher and notched one of his needle-like arrows. "Fine, we're going," Haer'Dalis said.

"Yeah, great, finally. Leave the troll. It's ours."

"You may have it with our compliments."

"Yeah, yeah," Sharpbriar said. "You're still here? Why are you still here, bonehead? Don't you understand Common? Shoo. Go on. Beat it."

As the three hastily backed out of the cavern, Solaufein heard one of the grigs say, "Well, come on, boys. Break out the knives. Let's see if this thing tastes like chicken."


	5. Fey Encounter

**Ch 5…Fey Encounter**

Solaufein saw fey more frequently as they penetrated deeper into the southern caves, not just grigs but larger fey as well. They stopped for a meal, bread and sausage from their packs. Deekin squatted near a patch of luminous moss and took out the map and his pen and ink. Haer'Dalis sat beside Solaufein and leaned over his shoulder so he could speak in his ear.

"I think we're being followed."

"We are," Solaufein replied.

"Mind you, I haven't actually seen anything."

"Nor have I. But I hear their wings. The grigs pursue like giant blood flies."

As they traveled further south, the cave floor dipped in a marked grade. They came upon signs of a great battle between orcs and harpies, judging by the bodies that still lay on the floor. The blood was fresh and wet. Cave rats scattered as the three approached.

"Deekin wonders who won."

Solaufein shrugged. "No one."

"Why do you say that?"Haer'Dalis asked.

"They still fight." He pointed ahead, where the floor dropped off steeply. Haer'Dalis didn't hear anything but Deekin cocked his head. "Let's take a closer look," Solaufein added.

Deekin followed behind him, and his feet skittered on loose rock. "Agh," he cried. "The air is all thick and greasy."

"A dead magic zone," Haer'Dalis said. He shook his head as if to clear water from his ears.

"Good," Solaufein said.

"Good, he says, with his allies crippled."

"You rely overmuch on that spellcasting of yours, _abbil_."

"You rely overmuch on that sword arm of yours, raven. They both fail us in the end."

"Save your philosophy for another time, Doomguard."

In a deep rough hole, a lone fey was surrounded by a half dozen orcs. As they watched, she—the creature was most definitely a she—took several running steps, dropped her horned head and slammed it into the chin of one of her attackers. He went down but another orc jumped on her back. She fell.

"What is that creature?" Solaufein whispered.

"A satyr," Haer'Dalis said. "Or, to be more accurate, a faun."

Solaufein motioned for them to move on. One lone fey being slaughtered by orcs was nothing to do with them. His order was ignored. Swords drawn, Haer'Dalis ran forward and kicked the orc off the faun before he could finish her off. With a mental grimace, Solaufein jumped off the shallow ledge and attacked the nearest orc. A small group of orcs was no particular danger but in even a trivial encounter, one's luck could turn bad. _One day, your chivalry will kill us both, _abbil_._ To his right, he heard the ratchet of Deekin's crossbow. He felt a rush of wind past his ear and saw the blur of small wings.

The orcs didn't last long. The faun gasped for breath, head down, and peered at them through her disheveled brown hair. Three grigs fluttered protectively behind her, bows drawn.

"Is this a rescue or a second attack?" the faun asked in a low pleasant voice.

"We mean you no harm," Haer'Dalis said.

"My thanks then." Her hair poured down her shoulders in a curly wave. Her coiled horns and hooves were a glossy black. She wore a string of large seeds or nuts around her neck, a woven belt with several small pouches, and that was all. Solaufein couldn't help but stare at the way her naked breasts swayed as her chest heaved. She noticed the direction of his gaze and gave him a slow smile. Solaufein was drow; he was neither shy nor chaste but still he felt the blood run to his face from the knowing look in her eyes.

"These orcs caught me by surprise," she continued.

"What happened?"one of the grigs asked. Solaufein recognized his voice as the grig that had threatened them earlier. "Not like you to get caught out by brainless orcs, Frond."

She shrugged. "Not so brainless as we thought," she said. "They led me straight here where they knew my magic would do me no good. They had no wish to talk, only to kill."

"Bone-headed wench," the grig said. "I leave you for a day and look what happens."

Frond passed a hand over one of her horns and laughed. "Bone-headed is right. Might have gone hard on me if you hadn't shown up. So introduce me to your friends, Sharpbriar. Did Halaster bring them here?"

"They say they came on their own," Sharpbriar said. "Looking for drow, they say."

"I'm sure they can speak for themselves," she said. Haer'Dalis stepped forward, eyes glittering in the light from the luminous moss and made introductions. "You will tell me what you seek, yes? But first let me ask. Have you news of Halaster?"

"Indeed we do not," Haer'Dalis said. "Has something happened to him?"

"It must have." She pouted. Her lips seemed made for pouts and smiles, Solaufein thought. "Let us get away from this ugly place of no magic," she said. "Come to my grotto. We can share a meal, if you like, and exchange news."

The grotto wasn't far but the corridors twisted and turned. Solaufein thought he could find his way back but he wasn't certain. He hoped the kobold's sense of direction was as good as he claimed.

Haer'Dalis stared open-mouthed at the brightly lit cavern of the faun. "Tis like a sunlit glade in a beautiful forest," he said. Solaufein and Deekin both squinted against the glare that came from the miniature sun affixed high above in the cavern roof.

"I told Halaster I would wither and die without sunlight," Frond told him. "So he made this for me. And a fortunate thing for us it is. We can grow our own food and are not dependent on the food boxes. They haven't been filled in two ten-days or more."

"Pretty lady die without sun?" Deekin asked.

"I don't suppose I would, but who wants to live in the dark?"

"Deekin be liking the dark."

She shook her head. "It goes against my nature to live in a dark dank cave but here I am. It goes against my nature to be any man's prisoner but here I am. Sometimes we must bend to the wind that blows us. But what of you, dark elf?" she asked. "I see your eyes protest my dim little sun. Do you, too, prefer the dark?"

"I was born in the dark," he said. "I know it well."

She swayed towards him. "I see a 'but' in your eyes."

"But I hope to make a life on the surface. It may go against my nature but it is still my wish."

She nodded. "One cannot fight what one is but perhaps your true nature is yet unknown to you. Once your people were not so different from mine, or so the stories go. But come, let us sit." She clapped her hands. "Bring out the wine and the food!" The air erupted with wings and laughter. "I would not have you think poorly of my hospitality after you spilt blood for me."

"We spilt theirs and not ours," Haer'Dalis said.

"All the better," she said.

A tiny waterfall, little more than a trickle, filled a deep pool. Ferns, mosses and other plants grew in a lush riot of greenery and gave off a fresh and spicy scent. Frond filled clay mugs with wine from a small wooden keg.

"You will tell me why you are here," she said, once they'd found seats near the pool. "If you are not prisoners of Halaster, have you come to raid his riches?"

"We are not treasure seekers," Solaufein said. "Drow attack the city of Waterdeep, directly above us. We wish to find how they are entering the city and stop them, if we can." The wine was dark with a rich fruity fragrance, with no scent of poison. He took a cautious sip.

"Ah, not treasure seekers but heroes." She gave another of her slow smiles. "I adore heroes. Drow have not dared enter Undermountain in the past," Frond said. "The mad mage has an especial hatred for your kind. I do not know why but no doubt he has his reasons. Or thinks he does. Possibly he may even remember those reasons. Halaster is a strange and vengeful man."

"So you don't think he is controlling or collaborating in these attacks?"

Frond shook her head. "His mind is twisted and I do not claim to know it. But surely you have seen that Undermountain tears itself apart. Halaster would not allow this."

"He's dead at last," piped Sharpbriar. "And a good riddance, too. I say we blow out of here, Frond, all of us. Go back to the surface. Feel the real sun. And rain. And wind."

"Hush," Frond said. "If he were dead, we would know it. Halaster's mind holds Undermountain together. If he were dead, surely we would feel it. Undermountain would collapse upon itself. He lives but he is not in control of himself. Perhaps his own madness has finally struck him down." She frowned and took a long drink from her mug. "This is my guess."

"How can we find Halaster?" Haer'Dalis asked.

She shrugged. "If he doesn't wish to be found, he won't be." She tapped a finger against her mug. "Were I to seek him, I would descend to the deeper levels and enter his workrooms there."

"Can you guide us?" Solaufein asked.

"Perhaps." She laughed and leaned forward. Solaufein found the view most distracting. "There will be a price, of course." She smiled and reached towards him to brush a loose strand of hair from his face. "You will not find my price too steep, I trust."

His eyes slid to Haer'Dalis. When the tiefling gave no warning, he returned her smile. "I am willing to bargain, certainly," he said. "What would please you?"

"This armor you wear, 'tis so unfriendly. It would please me to see your ebon skin freed from its confines. It would please me to see your hair freed from this braid. It would please me to—know you without constraint." She put her hand on his knee. "Are my words plain enough or should I spell out my desires more clearly?"

"Nggh—"

Frond laughed. "Your expression!" she said. "I see we understand each other. We have an agreement, yes?"

"Come, Deekin," Haer'Dalis said as he rose to his feet. "Let us take a walk around this marvelous cavern and leave these two to their discussion."

"Yes, the kobold might find sport with the smallfolk," Frond said. She jerked her head at Sharpbriar, who muttered something and shot into the air. "But you need not leave just yet, beautiful one. I'm thinking there is much you might add to our 'discussion'."

Haer'Dalis cocked an eyebrow at Solaufein, who responded with a slight hand signal. _Why not?_

"Like you, Frond, I bend to the wind that blows me," the tiefling said with a smirk.

* * *

They'd trudged for hours through the deep tunnels of Undermountain. "I understand the temptation but please do not kill our guide," Haer'Dalis whispered in Solaufein's ear. "Not yet, anyway."

"I make no promises," Solaufein replied. The grig swooped over both their heads.

"Curse that crazy lusty wench, may the cave ticks feast on her tasty flesh. What did I do to get stuck as a tallfolk nanny?" Sharpbriar grumbled. "I've got better things to do. Important things. Fun things."

"Frond wants us to find Halaster," Haer'Dalis said. "How is that unimportant?"

"Buzz, buzz. How you love to talk."

Haer'Dalis and Solaufein exchanged a look. "I'm surprised no one has swatted you," Solaufein said.

"Why don't you try, Blacky?"

"Why don't you do what your mistress commanded, and lead us to Halaster's workrooms? Preferably in silence."

Sharpbriar flew so close by Solaufein's face that the drow blinked. He waggled his tiny buttocks then zoomed up out of reach. "I hope you can keep up, sour face."

They ran into two groups of orcs, another troll, and a nest of carrion crawlers. When they stopped for a break, Haer'Dalis sat beside the grim and silent drow as he attempted to clean the crawler slime from his armor.

"The little kobold is holding up well," Haer'Dalis said with a nod towards Deekin.

"He's tougher than he looks. I find that's often true of the vermin races."

"Vermin? You are harsh."

Solaufein shrugged. "I mean no offense."

Haer'Dalis had lived amongst drow long enough to know tolerance was not an attribute of their society. Still, he'd hoped for more. "Speaking of vermin. Do you believe the grig deliberately leads us into danger?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. Do you think it would help if I spoke to him?" Haer'Dalis said. Sharpbriar perched on a rock above Deekin's head and said something that made the kobold laugh. Deekin opened his map. The grig flew onto his shoulder and the low murmur of their voices continued.

"Do you?"

"I think it will make things worse." Haer'Dalis sighed.

"So do I," Solaufein said. "Perhaps you should tell him you're eager to sate your demonic bloodlust and ask him to lead us to more prey."

Haer'Dalis laughed. "Perhaps I shall." He rose and joined the two smallfolk. "Tell me, good grig, how much further must we go?"

"What do you think? We go till we get there."

"It seems to me that the path we take is unduly circuitous."

"Everything here is circuitous, scar-face. Halaster is as twisted as a corkscrew. Can you fly? I'm taking you a way your clumsy feet can follow."

"Your kindness is only matched by your courtesy," Haer'Dalis said with a short ironic bow. Deekin gave them both an apprehensive look.

Sharpbriar trilled a laugh. "You are so right."

* * *

"I've had enough of this," Solaufein said, once the huge spiders were dead and he'd scraped the last of the webbing from his cloak. "You there. Grig."

"You bellowed, Blacky?" Sharpbriar lit upon a stalactite overhead and made a showy production out of combing his hair with his fingers.

"If you cannot lead us around these ambushes, I expect you to warn us of them first," he said.

"Chicken, are you? Bwawk, bwawk, bwawk."

"You waste our time. I have more important tasks than to cater to your sense of mischief."

"Yeah? Well, I have more important tasks than to listen to your bluster."

"I warn you—"

"Oh, blow it out your dirt chute," Sharpbriar said. "You'll never find the way down without my help."

"I wonder if we will find it with your help."

"Hah, hah, that's the risk you take, ain't it?" Sharpbriar pushed off his perch and soared over Solaufein's head. With an explosive spring, the drow leapt forward and snatched the grig out of the air. Sharpbriar's breath huffed out in a dismayed squeak.

"Continue to annoy me, little man, and I'll tear off your wings and let you crawl back to your mistress," he snarled. He gave the grig a squeeze that made him gasp then flung him away. Sharpbriar tumbled two turns in the air before he caught himself. He flew straight up to the ceiling. Haer'Dalis was just as glad he couldn't see the fey's expression. "Scout ahead, grig," Solaufein told him. "Keep your eye out for drow." With no sound other than the whir of his wings, the grig left.

"Drow in a bad temper," Deekin said. Solaufein whirled towards him. Deekin held out his hands and took a step back. "Just saying. Hope he comes back. Deekin's map not that great."

"Do you know which way we should go?" Haer'Dalis asked.

"Forward," Deekin said.

Haer'Dalis gave Solaufein a worried frown. "Are you certain we should continue?" the tiefling asked. "It was my understanding that Durnan did not wish us to get too far from the other groups. No doubt Durnan knows the way to Halaster's workrooms even if we do not."

"I do not like to return without word of our enemy," Solaufein said. "I think we should press on to the mage's stronghold."

"If we can find it," Haer'Dalis muttered.

* * *

With Solaufein scouting ahead, the group managed to avoid several encounters with orcs and ogres. They did slay another colony of giant spiders, whose webs blocked the passage. Sharpbriar did not return for hours.

"I leave you fools on your own and look what you do. You go the wrong stinking way," the grig said. Solaufein scowled. "But don't panic. I found you a nice little pack of drow. From what I overheard, they're as surly as my pal Blacky here."

"You've found drow?" Haer'Dalis said. "You've done well, good grig."

"Your words mean so much to me," the grig said in a simpering tone. "I'm all aflutter."

"What are their numbers?" Solaufein asked. "How are they armed?"

"I saw six. Two elves and four of those black-faced dwarves with heads bald as toadstools. The elves had swords. The dwarves had crossbows and clubs maybe."

"Only six?"

Sharpbriar shrugged. "That's all I saw. You're still outnumbered."

"A small patrol," Solaufein said. "Scouts, not a war party. Were they male or female?"

"Can you tell? Don't they all have beards?"

"Not the duergar, fool, the drow. The duergar are slaves and unimportant."

"Looking for a date, are you? Sorry, sweet thing, both drow were males. Too bad for you. Or maybe you don't care. You hear stories about elves."

Solaufein ignored his leer. "Did they wear cloaks?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. I didn't know you needed a fashion report."

Haer'Dalis thought Solaufein's eyes glowed with more intensity than they had shown all day. He watched him set his pack on the ground, pull out a roll of material and shake it out.

"You kept that drow's cloak?" Haer'Dalis asked. "The one you killed on the roof?"

Solaufein nodded. He exchanged cloaks and then, with a rueful look, took off the silver necklace that marked him as a follower of Eilistraee. He pressed the medallion to his lips and then tucked it away in an inner pocket next to his luck charm. "Perhaps I can convince these scouts to give me their report. Perhaps they will tell me where the bulk of the army waits."

"You're going to impersonate a squad leader?" Haer'Dalis asked.

"I'm going to try," Solaufein said.


	6. Surprises from the Shadows

**Ch. 6…Surprises from the Shadows**

Alone, silent as any predator from the Underdark, Solaufein watched the small drow camp. He'd asked the others to wait for his return. "I could pass the kobold off as a slave," he said. He ignored Deekin's indignant rumble. "But your presence will raise too many questions," he told Haer'Dalis.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Haer'Dalis asked. "Should these drow turn hostile, we won't be close enough to help."

"Were they led by a female, I wouldn't risk the deception," Solaufein said. "A couple of males I can bluff. If not—" He shrugged. "I know a trick or two. So few won't take me down."

He watched the scouting party long enough to convince himself that the _ilythiiri_ were commoners, of little consequence. They wore no house insignia. If either male came from House Kilath, the house he impersonated, this ruse would be short-lived but what were the chances of that? The attacks on Waterdeep could not come from one minor house. Many houses must be working in alliance, strange as that seemed. He hoped to learn why from these drow. He patted his charm, now safe in his pocket, for luck.

And luck he had. The duergar huddled together on one side of the camp and talked in low voices. The startled and furtive looks he got from the two drow when he showed himself told a story of their own. All was not well here. Solaufein let an expression of disdain stiffen his features.

"Who are you?" asked the older male. He had braided his hair out of his face. His looks were coarsened by an oft-broken nose. One arm hung awkward in a sling. The other drow stood with a slight stumble that suggested he also had been wounded. Solaufein looked across the camp where the duergar watched with wary eyes. They, too, bore the marks of recent battle.

"You may call me Veldrin," he said with but a blink. It was a common name, where his own had been rather well known, at least to any who had heard news from Ust Natha. He let his cape swirl to show the house insignia. The younger male made a respectful hand signal and the slight surliness of the older male's expression smoothed into blandness. "And you?"

The older male was Bhinica. The younger, who had a broken front tooth, was Nillin. Other than the man he'd killed in Waterdeep, they were the first drow he'd seen in three years. Until that moment, Solaufein had not realized the strength of his hunger for the sight of his own kind. He had not realized his weariness with pale skin, dark hair and strange colored eyes. _To live on the surface is to give this up. How many years will it take before the faces of my kin and even my own appearance become alien to me?_

"We expected the Red Sister," Nillin said.

_Red Sister? _Solaufein gave him a look honed over years as the leader of Ust Natha's Male Fighters Society, decades of asserting command over unknown males. They both looked down in deference. He had seen their type many times—_jaluken_ of low status and modest abilities, well-accustomed to obedience. "What have you to report?" he snapped.

The men gave their information in a rapid nervous flow. They had found no new ways to the surface. They had seen no sign of surfacers. They had fought numerous skirmishes with the local monsters and regretted to report that their patrol leader had fallen in one of these. The ogres that killed him had taken his body and with it, they feared to relate, their only map. And so they waited here, afraid to resume their patrol lest they become lost.

"This place changes," Nillin said. "The map was wrong in many places. It is the fault of the _rivvil_ Halaster."

"Nonsense," said Bhinica. "The Red Sisters have the mad mage under control. Soon they will break him and we will leave this place. If we are lost, it is because the other creatures here, they find and deface the signs we leave to mark our path. They watch us. I can feel their eyes upon us. Can you get us reinforcements, Veldrin?"

"I will see what I can do," Solaufein said. "Any other news?"

"We ran into one of the other patrols some time ago," Nillin said. "They heard rumors that rebels have been seen here in Undermountain." Solaufein raised his brows. _Rebels?_ "We have seen none of the Eilistraee worshippers. Plenty of time to go after them when we have clear passage to the surface. They won't stand long against the might of the Valsharess."

"Great indeed is her might," said the older drow. Solaufein could not tell if his words were sincere or sarcastic. "But you know that better than any of us." He gestured at the insignia on Solaufein's cloak. "Such glory she brings your house. What can you tell us of our queen's plans?"

Solaufein stared at Bhinica, eyes hooded. "I am not here to tell you anything." Did the Valsharess come from House Kilath? A self-proclaimed queen rose from the minor House Kilath, and prevailed over the greater houses in Menzoberranzan? How could that happen? And how could that happen so quickly? Was there a god's hand in this? And was this why Eilistraee called him to act? So many questions, and no way to ask them without giving away his own ignorance.

Bhinica looked over at the duergar servants. "Our meal is almost prepared," he said. "You will join us, Veldrin?"

Solaufein weighed the risks. Against the possibility of picking up useful information and, he admitted, feeding his own hunger for drow company there was the danger of betraying his deception. "I am expected back," he said with reluctance.

He did not make a direct return to the others but meandered about until he found a cavern well lit by luminous fungi. He climbed a crumbling ledge and wiggled into a large cleft in the rocks near the ceiling. The brightness of the room would obscure his heat signature, he hoped. He waited with the patience of the hunter. Before his feet could become numb with immobility, his simple precautions paid off. Bhinica glided into the cavern. He had removed his arm from its sling, although he held it close to his side, favoring it. Solaufein drew his sword. He thought he made no sound but Bhinica looked up and spotted him. He drew his own sword and stepped back. Solaufein dropped lightly to the floor to face him.

"Why do you follow me?"

"To see where you go, of course," Bhinica said.

"You do not need to know where I go. Return to your post."

Bhinica studied him in silence a moment. "Tell me. Why are you here and not on the surface with the others from your house?"

Solaufein looked down his nose. He stood a head taller than the other male. "How is that your concern?"

"Are you a deserter? Or are you, like us, left here to die? Why are you alone when we were ordered to travel in patrols?"

"Why are you alone then?"

Bhinica made a signal with his wounded hand. "I am not alone." Only keen hearing could detect the soft ratchet of the crossbows at Solaufein's back. "I suppose the answers to my questions are unimportant. What is important is that your house destroyed mine. I had hoped Kiaransalee would give me the chance to spill Kilath blood before I die in this wretched place. I am happy my prayers are answered."

"I am not your enemy."

"No? But you are mine."

_Damn you for forcing this on me!_ Solaufein leapt forward. Bhinica attempted to parry but Solaufein guessed he had never fought a master of the _z'ress a'thalak_. Bhinica was unprepared for his opponent's heavier weapon and far greater strength. Solaufein meant to disable him but his second stoke cut deep into Bhinica's belly.

Crossbows spit their bolts. One bolt skidded off his dragon armor; the others missed. Solaufein ran down the nearest duergar and chopped his arm before he could reload. The other dwarves used their innate invisibility spell and vanished. Solaufein blinked his eyes to infravision. The duergar did not stand their ground but ran, presumably back to their camp. Their wounded companion lagged behind the others. Solaufein let them go. _Where is Nillin?_

Bhinica appeared to have the same question. He lay on his side and cradled his spilled guts with both hands. The heat of his flowing blood was bright and shining upon the cold rock. "Brother, avenge me," he called. Solaufein scanned the cavern and saw no signs of other life. They were gone.

"His silence is answer enough," Solaufein said.

"Tried to—talk me out of this. Puts his skin—above his honor. Always so with him."

Solaufein squatted beside the dying elf. In a low voice, he said, "I am not of House Kilath."

"Your cloak—"

"I killed its owner."

Bhinica grimaced. "Is it so?"

"Tell me what you can of House Kilath and this Valsharess. I swear I will strike against them as best I can. Tell me who to strike."

"Of the rebels, are you?" He shuddered. "I die. What does it matter? I am cold—cold as death. My life's blood pours through my hands." He paused and gasped for breath. "You know nothing of Sinvyl Barita'ar?"

"Is that her name?"

"Matron mother of House Kilath. Her son—a mage. She too is—skilled. In the art."

"How did she rise to such power?"

"An unholy alliance. When Lolth went silent—"

"What? Lolth is silent?"

Bhinica stared up at him. "You do not know? Is this black skin—a disguise? Are you _darthiir_? Damn you."

"I am what I appear."

"You lie."

"Please, tell me more of the Valsharess. Tell me of the Red Sisters."

Bhinica looked away. He said nothing more. He died.

Solaufein took the medallion of Eilistraee from his pocket. He held it a long moment before he slipped the chain around his neck where it belonged.

* * *

"You're back. Too bad," Sharpbriar said when Solaufein returned to the camp. "I figured you'd been eaten by harpies. Hoped, really."

"He'd give them indigestion," Haer'Dalis said but Solaufein did not miss the look of concern in his eyes. He gave a reassuring hand signal and told them what he had learned from the drow.

"Our next step must be to learn where Halaster is kept," he said.

"No," Deekin said. "First we must tells Durnan of this."

Solaufein frowned. "As yet we know little more than rumor," he said. "And I feel—I feel a sense of urgency. As of now, this place is inimical to our enemy. Undermountain protects the city above us. Should Halaster be persuaded to aid the Valsharess, she will be able to move her forces at will."

"We must be telling this to Durnan," Deekin said.

"We can make better time than the surfacers that work for Durnan," Solaufein said. "By the time we return to the Yawning Portal and then come back here—I don't know. I don't think we have that much time."

"You don't have much time," Sharpbriar said. "Not much of my time, anyway. If you think I'm going to be at your beck and call much longer, you're as big of an ass as you look. Got business of my own to get back to. Frond told me to lead you to Halaster's workroom and that's all you're getting from me."

"That's also a consideration," Solaufein said.

Deekin bounced in agitation. "But we promised—"

"Feel free to return if you think that is so important," Solaufein said.

"By myself? Little Deekin, all alone?"

"I thought you were a kobold hero," Solaufein said.

"I'd prefer you travel with us awhile longer," Haer'Dalis said. "Perhaps we will find a way to send a message to the innkeeper."

"Don't look at me," Sharpbriar said.

They saw no more drow that travel period, although Solaufein never quite lost the feeling of unseen eyes upon them. He took first watch when they stopped to sleep. Deekin sidled closer to the rock he'd chosen as a seat. Solaufein, expecting a renewal of his pleas to return to Durnan, narrowed his eyes.

"Deekin wondering why that drow followed you. Why that drow attacked you."

"Revenge, of course, against House Kilath. I was alone. He thought he wouldn't be caught."

"But he working for this Valsharess. Why he do that if she his enemy?"

"This so-called Valsharess can expect no loyalty from the troops she has enslaved."

"Sounds like kobolds," Deekin muttered. Solaufein gave him a curious look but the kobold stretched and moved away.

Haer'Dalis turned in his blankets and looked at the drow. Sometimes Solaufein forgot that his hearing was sharper than most surfacers. "Is this lack of loyalty a weakness we can exploit?"

"I wouldn't think so. No matron mother expects loyalty. Should she face overwhelming odds, many of her soldiers will desert her. She will pick her battles with care so that does not happen."

The hours passed, as Solaufein walked the camp. He heard little other than the peaceful rhythm of the sleeper's breaths. And then, between one breath and the next, a woman appeared before him. As he snatched for his scimitar, she crossed open hands against her chest in a drow sign of truce. When she turned, Solaufein caught a glint of gold in her white hair. She wore form-fitting leather, soft boots, all dark as her skin. On her right hip swung a rapier, on her left, a long dagger.

"I mean you no harm," she said. Her voice was low, melodic. With one hand, she sketched a sign of Eilistraee, a secret sign he'd been taught long ago in Ust Natha, back in the days when Phaere claimed to love him, before the days of her torture. His hand rose but he let it drop and did not return the sign.

"Who are you?" he asked, voice harsh.

"I am Nathyrra."

"Your house?"

She gave him the frown he'd expected—for a male to question a female was bold—but she answered with only a slight hesitation. "I am _dobluth_, Solaufein, outcast when the Valsharess destroyed my house years ago."

"How do you know my name?"

"I was sent to find you, to guide you," she said. "We knew you would come."

"I do not understand."

"You were given a dream. So was my leader." She gave a low laugh. "I see you are confused. Don't worry, I am also. I belong to a group that fights the Valsharess. We were called to this fight as you were."

"You belong to the rebels?"

"So they name us, as if the Valsharess was already our queen in truth. We are led by a priestess of Eilistraee, a seer of great power. She has foreseen your coming and sent me to find you. She sends you a message."

"What is it?"

"Come."

Solaufein waited and watched the small smile slowly bloom on Nathyrra's lips. "That's the message?"

Her smile broadened. "Sorry, that's it." Her eyes slipped past him to his sleeping companions. "I can't stay. For now, I wanted you to know that you're not alone. You have allies."

"What do you know of these attacks on the surface? What does the Valsharess want?"

"From Waterdeep? She wants slaves and riches, of course. Her ambition knows no bounds. She seeks nothing less than to conquer the Underdark and that will take resources. She will pluck what she needs from the surface if she can."

"Such ambition sounds like madness."

"Perhaps."

"But how can a minor house have risen so high so quickly?"

"Her house was never in favor with Lolth. When Lolth went silent—"

"That is true then? What happened?"

"No one knows. But She is silent and the prayers of Her priestesses go unanswered. Can you imagine the chaos when that happened?" Solaufein shook his head, amazed. "With her rivals gutted of power, the Valsharess acted. Her weakness became her strength. She conjured—allies and without Lolth, the other houses could not stand against her."

"Allies?"

She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "She has enslaved a devil. He is said to be a great lord of the hells."

"Do you believe this?"

"Have I seen him with my eyes? No. Do I believe? Yes, I do."

"Eilistraee save us."

She nodded. "It is our hope that She will. The Red Sisters have captured Halaster. Should the Valsharess turn him to her will, Waterdeep will have much to fear."

"Who are these Red Sisters?"

Another of her enigmatic smiles. "They are her elite assassins. Some have been sent to weaken the city's defenses by murdering key leaders. Others seek a safe path through Undermountain for the Valsharess's armies. They will move quickly, Solaufein, so you must move more quickly still. Once she has conquered Waterdeep, she will turn her attention back to the Underdark."

"Halaster is the key to stopping her here." His voice rose in the lilt of a question.

"I believe so too. His power can swallow armies. Were he free, he'd turn his forces against any who invade Undermountain. He hates us _ilythiiri_."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I must go, Solaufein. Please remember the Seer's message."

"Come?"

"Come. But first, seek out Halaster."

**Drow words:**

_darthiir—_surface elf  
_dobluth—_outcast  
_ilythiiri—_drow  
_jaluken—_males  
_rivvil—_human  
_z'ress a'thalak—'_force of war', an uncommon drow fighting style that requires great strength


	7. The Workroom

**7…The Workroom**

Natural caverns led to worked tunnels, which led to streets and buildings carved out of the living stone.

"This is where the dwarves lived, who mined the mithral in the mountain," Sharpbriar told Deekin. "Halaster took their stronghold and rebuilt it to suit himself."

Solaufein returned from his silent reconnaissance. "There are four drow on guard duty by the entrance," he said. "And an entire squadron is on call nearby. In addition, they have a team of duergar engineers trying to get the main door open."

Sharpbriar snickered. "They must have set off Halaster's defenses. If they can get past his seals, they deserve to take Undermountain," he said. "They won't."

"Seals? Can you open the door?" Solaufein asked.

"Not without the special keys and I don't know where they are."

"So even if we could take on the guards, which will not be easy, we still can't enter the mage's stronghold?" Haer'Dalis said.

"Nope." Sharpbriar flitted up and down. "Not unless you want to hunt the keys. They could be anywhere. Probably Halaster has them."

Solaufein repressed the urge to slap him out of the air. "Then what was the point of leading us here?"

"The pleasure of your company?" The grig snickered again.

"If your mistress wishes us to release the mage, you're going to have to do better than that," Solaufein said.

"There's another way in," Sharpbriar said. "Treat me nice and maybe I'll show it to you."

Haer'Dalis took a look at Solaufein's thunderous expression and stepped between the two. "What do you want, my fair hummingbird?"

"For starts, call me hummingbird again and I'll stick my dagger in your ear."

"Master Grig, then."

"Better. What do I want? I want candy. Give me something sweet."

"Candy?" Haer'Dalis raised a brow at Solaufein, who gave a negative hand signal. "I'm sorry, Master Grig, but none of us has any candy."

"Ahem," Sharpbriar said and gave Deekin a pointed look. With a sigh, the kobold opened his pack.

They quietly withdrew from the main entrance. The grig rode on the back of Deekin's pack. In a sticky voice, he directed them on another of his circuitous paths.

"What the hells?" Haer'Dalis said. The passage ended in a wall. "This is a dead end."

"Look up," Sharpbriar said.

"I am looking, Master Grig. And I repeat: what the hells?"

"It's an air shaft," Sharpbriar said. "Vent for the labs. It runs right over the top of Halaster's defenses." They all looked up at the roughly circular opening in the wall. Solaufein made a strong leap and his fingers brushed the bottom of the hole. The wall was smooth and there was no lip or edge to grasp.

"How are we supposed to get up there?" Solaufein asked. If he could still levitate, this would be simple.

"Grow wings?" the grig said.

"That hole is not large," Haer'Dalis said. "Are you sure we can fit?"

"I can," Sharpbriar said. "And Prince Peppermint here won't have any trouble. Not too sure about you two great buffoons though."

"Then what do you suggest?" Haer'Dalis said with a sigh of exasperation.

"I suggest you strip. Got any grease?"

"Strip? Are you serious?"

"I'm always serious, gasbag. That armor you louts wear is going to cause you problems. Once you get stuck, it's too late to decide to take it off. Best to strip now. And don't forget the grease." The grig snickered.

"If this is one of your tricks—" Solaufein said.

"Yeah, Blacky, I'm just panting to get a close up look at your dangly bits. Bleah! I leave that kind of thing to Frond. Don't blame me if you end up wedged like a cork in a bottle."

Solaufein gave the grig an unpleasant look. _Maybe we should go back, leave this problem to Durnan. Perhaps he knows where to find the keys. Should I leave this to the humans? With a larger force, we could assault the drow, assuming they don't get the door open while we backtrack to the surface. The humans would be at quite a disadvantage, fighting here in the dark._

Haer'Dalis shrugged, dropped his pack and began to strip out of his armor. He grinned at Solaufein when he saw him continue to hesitate. "Modest, my raven?"

Solaufein scowled. "You know I am not. But I do not like to be unprotected in this place. Why is this entry unguarded?"

"You can never seal up a place this big," the grig said. "Halaster isn't worried about a goblin or two sneaking out the air shaft. He just wants to keep the big monsters contained and slow everyone else down so he can deal with them at his leisure."

"And there are no traps?"

"Not on this side."

"Is that meant to be amusing?"

"I'm always amusing. Come on, Blacky, show us your stuff. I ain't got all day, you know."

Solaufein frowned and took off his cloak. "It's going to be damned cold up there," he grumbled. "I know I'm going to regret this."

His regrets began almost immediately.

"This is taking forever," Sharpbriar complained. He'd flown in first. Solaufein was next. He stood on Haer'Dalis's shoulders and scrambled in head first, with a rope looped around his shoulder. There was no room to turn around, so he couldn't give Haer'Dalis a hand up as they'd planned. Instead, he crawled forward and braced himself as best he could with his arms and knees. The kobold shinnied up the rope and helped anchor it so that Haer'Dalis could follow. Finally they hoisted up the packs, tied to the end of the rope. They all lay in the gritty duct and panted from exertion. It was pitch black and noisy from the constant rush of air. And it was every bit as cold as Solaufein had anticipated.

"Where is the fan?" Haer'Dalis asked. He pitched his voice to carry. "We won't have to pass through it, I hope."

"No, it's above us somewhere," Sharpbriar said. "There's a shaft that runs up to the surface. We won't be going that way. We just have to get past the walls here and into the mage's lab."

The grig was able to walk upright though there were places he had to pull in his wings. The others, even the kobold, had to crawl on their bellies. The duct was neither regular nor level. Solaufein formed the impression it had been carved from the solid stone by a creature of some sort—a pech, a rock eating worm, or perhaps a small earth elemental. He didn't think a surface dwarf or a duergar could have gotten his wide shoulders through the narrow duct. Flexible as he was, Solaufein had a difficult time. Although he couldn't look back, Sharpbriar's comments and snickers informed him that Haer'Dalis's struggles were worse. His head pounded from the deafening, shrieking blast of cool air. He found himself in agreement with the grig—this was taking forever.

Solaufein's elbows and shoulders ached from the strain of crawling forward. The rhythmic thrum he felt through the rock beneath him seemed to intensify. Sharpbriar walked over his arms and leaned close to his face to shout in his ear.

"We're almost at the spot where we tie into the main shaft."

"Does the passage widen?"

"Yeah. That's the good news. Problem is, you got to make a real tight turn to get into it. Now would be a good time for that grease."

Sharpbriar crawled over him so he could warn the others. Solaufein reached the junction. He'd been expecting the ducts to join at right angles. This was closer to a three-quarters change in direction. _Oh, hells_.

He had to turn on his side and wiggle, squirm and push against what traction the smooth surface gave. He left skin and blood on the duct walls but eventually he forced his way into the wider duct. He moved forward to give the others room to follow. Cold air continued to blast him, stripping the heat from his body. After a wait that seemed endless, Sharpbriar's bony knees and elbows dug into his back as he crawled back over him.

"I'm sick as a horse from laughing so hard," the grig said. "Your friend couldn't make the turn. You should have heard the cursing and the wailing."

"Hells take you, we can't leave Haer'Dalis stuck in this accursed duct."

"Don't panic. He's not stuck. Had him go the other direction, the easy way."

"And now he's going the wrong way? _Vith'os_!"

"Told you not to panic. He's _facing_ the wrong way since there's no room for him to turn. He's going to have to crawl the rest of the way backwards."

"Great."

"Not as bad as you think, ember eyes. At least he'll be able to get out of this duct feet first. I'm going to get a belly laugh when you drop on your pumpkin head."

More crawling. At last, light pierced the darkness of the endless duct. Solaufein blinked and moved a bit faster.

"What lies ahead?" he asked when the grig approached his face.

"A big room full of all sorts of wizardly-looking things," the grig yelled. "There's nothing moving."

"No guards? Traps?"

"Like I said, there's nothing moving. There's only one door and it's closed."

"Locked?"

"You better hope not."

Solaufein would have rubbed his luck charm but it was tucked into his pack, dragged behind Haer'Dalis at the end of a rope. _Eilistraee, please don't have us work so hard to get into a room we can't escape. _

When he reached the end of the duct, there were no bars or louvers to remove. Solaufein poked out his head and looked around. Mage lights illuminated the room. The drop to the floor looked uncomfortably long with nothing but stone tiles below him to break his fall. He ached; his whole body felt stiff and awkward. There were tables against the other walls, filled with Sharpbriar's 'wizardly-looking things'. Why couldn't there be a table here where he needed one? Sharpbriar fluttered near the drow's eye level.

"You didn't tell me there were golems," Solaufein said. He gave the two large constructs an uneasy eye.

"I didn't tell you a lot of things. Like how much you stink. They're not moving, Blacky, and there's no light in their eyes. This looks like a workroom. You can see they're not finished yet."

One of the golems was made of brown clay and appeared complete except for the smooth featureless head. There were hollow pits where its eyes should have been. The other golem was propped against the back wall. Made of pale stone, it was legless, with only one arm. The other arm lay on the workbench beside it, carving incomplete. He saw no signs of the legs.

Solaufein slithered out of the duct with his hands flat against the wall in an attempt to slow his descent. His fly-walk down the wall accelerated into a graceless tumble. He heard a grating rumble of stone against stone. The golems awoke.

"Heads up," Sharpbriar said. "Something tells me these big fellows don't like smelly elves."

Solaufein leapt to his feet, heart in his mouth. He didn't know what triggered the golems or if it mattered. The clay monstrosity lurched towards him. Eyeless, earless and nose-less, it still seemed to sense him. Solaufein was naked and unarmed. All of his gear was in his pack, in the duct.

"_Iblith_!"

Solaufein rolled under the clay golem's punch. The huge fist grazed his shoulder. Solaufein barely felt the pain. He scrambled under an oak table and sprinted out the other side, aches and stiffness lost in a surge of panic. A huge thud made firewood of the table. Off the back table, Solaufein snatched up the stone golem's arm for a makeshift club. He wrapped both hands around the thick wrist for a grip and took a step back. The grig's shout warned him and he jumped just as the incomplete stone golem behind him grabbed for him with its one attached arm.

Solaufein twisted out of its reach. Thrown off balance by its own movements, the golem's torso tumbled to the ground with a loud crash. He heard Deekin shout something that must have been a spell, for suddenly he felt a surge of strength and speed wash over him. The clay golem bore down on him. He dodged back and forth and gave it a couple of whacks with his heavy club. Each blow crunched holes in the crumbling brittle clay but the damage did not slow down the construct.

He stepped back and stone fingers closed around his ankle. How had the cursed thing moved? He grunted with pain and tried to twist free. The stone golem had no leverage to pull him down but it held him in place with its crushing grip. Solaufein raised his club to block the clay golem's blows. They rained down with mindless force. He fought to keep his balance.

Deekin scuttled around the clay golem to reach him. In one hand, he brandished a table leg; in the other, a chisel. He's stronger than he looks, Solaufein realized, as the kobold smashed the stone golem's fingers. More useful, too. Free, Solaufein hobbled out of the clay golem's reach. As it followed, he leapt onto a stool and took a two-handed swing at the golem's head. The hollow head cracked open and the magic that animated the construct dissipated in a swirl of light.

Haer'Dalis fell out of the duct, cursing. Filth, streaked with sweat and blood, obscured the tiefling's pale skin.

With a savage pull of the rope, Haer'Dalis made the packs tumble down behind him. "I'm sorry I couldn't help with this," he told Solaufein and gestured to the destruction in the room. He bent to his pack and retrieved his weapon belt. "I got stuck."

The grig laughed and flitted down from whatever hiding place he'd used to evade the fight. "Looks like I'm going to have to call you Big Blacky and Little Blacky," he said. "What a laugh. I thought you two smelled bad before."

Solaufein panted. The golem had done serious damage to his ankle, he feared. Luckily Haer'Dalis had a good supply of healing potions. "I've had just about enough of you, little man," he said.

"Oh yeah? Well, I've had more than enough of you. What are you're going to do about it, Little Blacky?" He zoomed towards the ceiling and aimed his tiny bow. "How'd you like an arrow in your dangles?"

Solaufein suppressed the urge to cover his gonads with his hand. He limped forward and raised his club. "How would you like to be a smear on the wall?"

"Hah, hah, look at those red eyes glow. Are you pissed, Little Blacky? Ooh, I'm shaking, I'm so scared."

Solaufein took a swing at the grig. He forced himself to miss but the club clipped the lower edge of the grig's wing. Sharpbriar shot straight up toward the high ceiling. "You're going to pay for that." Solaufein narrowed his eyes.

"Let it go," Haer'Dalis said. "Ignore the little pest."

Sharpbriar made a loud flatulent noise. "Yeah, you better listen to Big Blacky. You mess with me, drow, you going to find yourself hurting in places you didn't know you had."

I should have killed him, Solaufein thought. They all spun when the door creaked open. Deekin, pressed into the farthest corner near a stack of books, squealed. Haer'Dalis's twin swords seemed to leap into his hands. Another golem stood in the doorway. This tall lanky construct was made of flesh of different colors, stitched together like a giant's rag doll. Or like a zombie, Solaufein thought, although it did not have the rotted smell of the loathsome undead. He tightened his grip on his makeshift club.

The golem looked around the room. Its mouth fell open.

"Ooh," it said. "My dad's going to be mad as fire when he sees this mess. You're going to get it." It took another step into the room and pointed at Solaufein. _Those filthy nails carry disease, no doubt._ "Drow? How did you get in here? Dad's going to have a great big fit when he finds out. He hates dark elves." The whole right side of the golem's face crinkled up. _It's trying to frown?_ Solaufein had never seen a golem attempt a facial expression. He signaled Haer'Dalis. _Throw me my sword!_ But the tiefling stared at the golem in fascination. _This is no time for curiosity, bard._

The grig flew behind the golem and hovered over its shoulder. "It's all their fault, Berger," he said. "I didn't do anything."

"Oh, hey, Sharpbriar. Didn't see you there. These drow hurting you?"

"Save me, save me! That one with the club, he's so baaaad! He hit me. Tell Halaster to turn him into a fruitcake."

"Dad's kind of tied up right now," Berger said. "Guess I'll have to handle this myself. Hey," it shouted at Solaufein. "You there, naked drow. You're not supposed to be here. Leave my friend alone."

Sharpbriar danced in the air and turned to wiggle his buttocks in Solaufein's direction. He made another loud blat and giggled. Solaufein growled and took a menacing step toward the grig. _I really should have killed him_. His wounded ankle flared pain and he stumbled forward. The flesh golem yelped and raked its claws down the elf's shoulder and chest. Solaufein's eyes flared red with fury. With one explosive movement, he swung his club into the side of the golem's head. Berger crashed into the doorframe and slid to the ground. With horrified fascination, Solaufein saw that its skull was filled with repulsive dark putty. _Gurrouh._

The golem's lips moved. "Dad's going to _kill_ you." It died.

The grig buzzed down for a look and then flew back out of reach. "Blacky, you blew it. You just killed Halaster's son." Solaufein raised his club. The grig's wings blurred as he flashed further away.

"Easy, raven," Haer'Dalis said. He reached toward him but checked his hand before he touched the drow's arm. Solaufein noticed his hesitation. He gritted his teeth and lowered his weapon. "His son?" Haer'Dalis said. "That is a flesh golem."

"Yeah, well you know it's a golem and I know it's a golem, but try telling Halaster. He's nuts. He put a piece of his own flesh in him." He shook his head at Solaufein. "I can't believe you killed Berger. He's harmless."

Solaufein looked down at the blood that trickled across his ribs. He hoped the wound didn't fester. "It struck me first."

"Big baby. Tell Halaster if you think he'll care. I'm thinking he won't."

"Halaster's not here," Solaufein said. "How will he know? Unless you plan to tell him."

"I don't got to tell him anything," Sharpbriar said. "He knows. He knows everything that happens in Undermountain. His eyes are everywhere."

"But he's a prisoner, is he not?" Haer'Dalis said.

"So? He'll still know." Sharpbriar laughed. "You are so doomed." He continued to hover like an obnoxious bumblebee.

"Doomed?" Deekin asked.

"Doomed, doomed, doomed," the grig told him. "On top of that, tallfolk oafs, maybe Berger could have told you where Halaster is being kept. Think of that, Blacky? Now you got to find out for yourself." He grinned at Solaufein's furious face. "Well, anyway, I'm out of here before any of your doom rubs off on me." He flew towards the open duct.

"Wait," Haer'Dalis said. "We need you to carry a message to Durnan."

"I ain't no pigeon. Carry your own damned messages."

"Deekin has more candy," Deekin cried. But it was too late. The grig was gone. Solaufein grimaced and pulled the flesh golem's body further into the room, out of sight of the hallway. He heard no signs of movement but was concerned about other defenses the wizard might have in place.

"What was I supposed to do?" he asked Haer'Dalis. "It struck me." In death, the golem did look more pathetic than dangerous. The tiefling gave a noncommittal shrug.

"You was mad at Sharpbriar," Deekin said. "You wanted a fight."

"It attacked me first."

Deekin shook his head. "Big guys always quick to squish little guys. Don't need much excuse. Poor Berger got squished."

"That monstrosity towered over me."

"You a warrior. That make you big guy. Golem, he more like Halaster's pet, Deekin thinking. Little guy."

"It attacked me!"

"You didn't have to fight back. Could have said sorry. Could have run away. That what Deekin do."

"You expected me to apologize to that—that repulsive _thing_? To _flee _from it?"

"See, that being how Deekin know you a big guy. It's not how tall you are. It's how _big_ you are. You big like Sharpbriar."

Haer'Dalis chuckled. "Fascinating insight but what do we do now?"

"Clothes?" the kobold suggested. "You two look cold, especially looking from my eye level."

"What I wouldn't give for a long soak in a hot tub," Haer'Dalis said. They scrambled into their clothes and armor. Solaufein felt more relaxed with the weight of his sword belt snug around his waist.

"We really do need to get a message to Durnan," Haer'Dalis said.

"How?" Solaufein asked. Haer'Dalis turned his head toward Deekin.

"No," the kobold said. "No, no. Deekin not going back up that hole by himself. Deekin not wandering Undermountain by himself. Forget it."

Haer'Dalis shrugged. "Can't say that I blame you. For now let's search these rooms. Perhaps we can find some clue to where Halaster has been taken."

Deekin brightened. "Maybe find portal out of here. Durnan says Halaster has lots of portals."

The workroom opened into a long wide hall with other doors set at irregular intervals. Most doors were open. The three moved cautiously from room to room, searching for traps or guardians and finding neither. One room had three walls lined with shelves from floor to ceiling. The shelves were crammed with glass jars in all sizes from tiny to huge. There was a large rectangular pillar in the center of the room.

"Smells like a wine shop," Solaufein said.

"Looks like a nightmare," Haer'Dalis said. "Oh, joy. I suppose this is Halaster's eyeball collection. What is it with mad mages and eyeballs? Do you remember that mage we met in Draconis' lair?"

"The lunatic with the flock of flying eyes? _Gurrouh_. Can we leave?"

"These eyeballs not be flying," Deekin said. "They be floating. Pickled in some kind of alcohol, I guess. Think it be good to drink?"

"_Gurrouh_," Solaufein said.

"That's a lot of eyes. Why so many eyes? Look how big this one is." Deekin leaned over the jar. "What you think it came from?"

"I can't read the label," Haer'Dalis said. "What language is this?"

"That be Old Draconic," Deekin said and read the label out loud.

"Interesting. Can you read these others?" Haer'Dalis said. Solaufein rolled his own eyes and moved to the doorway with his back to the room and let the two bards discuss ancient languages. He feared they would be at it for hours but the kobold turned his head and sniffed.

"Deekin smelling something."

"All I smell is liquor," Haer'Dalis said.

"Deekin smelling something else. Different air." Deekin walked all around the room with his eyes half closed and his hands tucked into his belt. He stopped at one side of the pillar. "Here," he said.

Solaufein frowned and flicked his vision to infravision. "I think you're right," he said. "The pillar is slightly cooler than the rest of the room. Do you think we've found another air shaft?"

Haer'Dalis muttered the words of a spell. When he finished, they could all clearly see the outlines of a hidden door. They stared at each other a moment before Solaufein drew his weapon. He held it by his side and pulled slowly at the revealed latch.

"Stairs," Solaufein said.

"Where do they go?" Haer'Dalis asked.

"Down."

**Drow Words:**

_gurrouh_—yuck  
_iblith—_crap  
_vith'os_—"eff" you


	8. Descent

**8…Descent**

The stairs descended in a long, rough and irregular spiral that seemed not so much carved as chewed into the living stone. They ended in a small landing at another concealed door.

"Wait here," Solaufein whispered. "Let me scout the area." Haer'Dalis raised his brows but did not object. Solaufein slid out the small door and closed it behind him. As soon as the door closed, the illusion that hid it snapped into place. From the outside, the door appeared as nothing more than a slight crack in the rock wall. He stood still and looked around. They'd left the dwarven mines and worked areas behind and were in a natural cave. Solaufein felt an echoing vastness surround him. His infravision detected no life forms nearby. The air was cool, still and dry. He felt his heart beat faster and yet he felt calm at the same time. The press of earth above him, the chilled silence, and most of all, the anticipation of danger that hung over this place like a pall—all of these were familiar and strangely welcoming. I approach the Underdark, Solaufein thought. _I am almost home_.

His hand strayed to the medallion he wore. _Eilistraee, am I wrong to feel this way? Am I unworthy to worship you? You call us drow to the surface but the places of darkness are closer to my heart._

He tapped a signal on the secret door and the others joined him. With the silence broken, his mood passed on to more practical concerns. Finding nothing in the large cave, they began a systematic search of the interconnected caverns. Although Deekin swore he would not get lost and Solaufein trusted his own sense of direction, still he marked each passage they entered by scratching a sign or leaving marker stones. He smiled grimly to himself when he found other scratches, other piles of stones.

Deekin crept closer and tugged at his sleeve. "Deekin smelling dead things," he warned. Solaufein sniffed but smelled nothing until they worked deeper into the corridor, around a bend and through a low arch where both men had to duck their heads to enter. In a depressed chamber, bodies lay heaped in casual piles like garbage. Which they were, Solaufein supposed. The creatures had been killed elsewhere and dragged here. Several large cave rats looked up from their grisly banquet and regarded him with dark expressionless eyes.

"Faugh," Haer'Dalis said. He pulled a corner of his cloak over his face. "How many orcs would you say lay here?"

"Fifty," Solaufein said. He also saw the larger forms of ogres amongst the dead. "Maybe more." He stepped closer to examine the closest bodies. The kobold lifted a harpy's leathery wing and let it drop.

"Deekin been wondering where Halaster's monsters were. They be dead already."

"What killed them?" Haer'Dalis asked.

"Drow," Solaufein answered.

"We must be getting close to their encampment," Haer'Dalis said.

"You are close indeed," said a voice behind him. Solaufein covered his jerk of surprise with a smooth turn towards the newcomer. Deekin squeaked and ran behind Haer'Dalis, who drew both swords. Nathyrra stood before them. She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded to Solaufein.

"_Vendui_," he said. How silently she moves, he thought with a tinge of annoyed admiration. _If we hadn't been so loud, would I have heard her?_

"And I greet you also," she replied in Common. "Your friends know who I am?"

Solaufein nodded. "I have told them of our first meeting. Have you news for us?"

"I do. The forces of the Valsharess are gathered in a great cavern to the north of here. They prepare for war. Once Halaster has been—persuaded to open a portal to the surface, they will pour through in a wave of looting and destruction."

"Do you know where he is held?"

"_Nau_. But nearby, I believe. North of the camp, a tunnel slopes down into another cave or series of caves. I have not explored that area yet, for it is heavily guarded, but it seems logical that Halaster is kept there. That is where we should look if we wish to free him. That is your wish, is it not?"

"Can we do so?" Solaufein asked. "Against so many?"

"We gots to sneak past an army and then more guards? Deekin not be liking this plan."

"If I can get close to where the mage is held, I can free him," she said. She sounded very confident.

"How?" Haer'Dalis asked.

Solaufein saw her give the tiefling an up-and-down look that would have had any sensible male cowering in apology. "I have the means to do so."

"Then why haven't you freed him already?"

"I was told to wait for Solaufein."

"Why?" Haer'Dalis asked.

"Because that is what I was told to do," she said, an edge of exasperation in her voice. She took a breath. "I know you have no reason to trust me. There are no words I can say that can change that." Nathyrra stepped closer to Solaufein. "Words did not bring you here, did they? It is not me you should trust but Eilistraee. What does She tell you to do?"

Her eyes seemed sincere. That meant little; most drow could lie with their eyes and their bodies as well as their lips. A paladin could sense the truth but Solaufein was no holy warrior. A revelation would be nice, he thought. Perhaps priests and paladins received revelations on demand but nothing came to him. _I suppose that is what faith is for, to nudge one to act when dreams and portents are lacking. All my life, I have failed to act until forced to do so._ His luck charm sat warm in his pocket, a silent encouragement. _Hasn't my luck held so far?_ _This is what I came for, isn't it?_

"I'm with you," he said. Nathyrra caught the look that passed between him and Haer'Dalis, apology crossing skepticism.

"Perhaps it is time for your friends to return to the surface," she said. "I believe I can get the two of us to Halaster but I do not know how to explain the presence of those not _ilythiiri."_

"You could go and warn Durnan," Solaufein said, with a rueful gaze at Haer'Dalis. "He will need to know what we've learned. Should we fail—"

"Neither of us plans well for failure," Haer'Dalis said. His eyes glinted in a familiar excitement, Solaufein realized. _Why would that surprise me?_ "'Tis better to succeed, no? I find I have no desire for us to be parted as yet."

"Nor do I," Solaufein said.

"A surfacer adds to our danger," Nathyrra said.

"I can mask my form, for a time." Haer'Dalis spoke the words of a spell. Magic swirled. His skin darkened and his hair lightened and within the course of a dozen breaths, he had taken on the appearance of a drow male, complete to the red eyes.

"How you do that?" Deekin asked.

Haer'Dalis grinned. "I once had the opportunity to be of service to a silver dragon. She taught me this spell."

"Tell me of this dragon," Deekin said. His tail twitched with eagerness.

"Another time and I will," Haer'Dalis said. He looked down at himself. "I'm not as good as she for I cannot seem to disguise my height. Nor can I sustain this spell indefinitely."

Nathyrra walked around him. Her lip turned up in a slight smile. "This is good," she said. "Very good. If I had not seen you cast it, I'd never have detected the spell. Solaufein is tall so if you stand together, your height might not be so noticeable. Try not to draw attention to yourself."

"What about me?" Deekin asked. "Deekin not looking drow."

"A slave, perhaps," she said.

Deekin thrust out his narrow jaw. "Deekin haves to be a slave? Deekin not liking to lick boots. Deekin yet to find a tasty boot."

"Sorry," Nathyrra said. "We all have to do a bit of boot-licking in our lives."

"Deekin seem to be doing more than his share."

"Follow me, _jaluken,_ and if we are stopped, let me do all the speaking."

"Gladly, mistress," Haer'Dalis said.

Nathyrra gave him a suspicious look. "Dropping the eyes is good," she said. "The smirk, however, is likely to earn you lashes."

"My apologies, mistress."

"That's better. I guess. Something about you still makes my hand itch for a whip."

"I have that effect on women, I'm told."

"I believe you." Solaufein thought she smothered a laugh. "Try to sound more fearful," she said. "Look to your friend. He shows the perfect amount of deference."

Solaufein pushed down a familiar flare of resentment. _I do, do I? Perhaps that will change._

Nathyrra knew a secret passage that skirted the drow forces. They climbed, hidden from view inside a tunnel that rose above the floor level.

"This tunnel not natural," Deekin said.

"It is not," Nathyrra said. "It was made by formians."

"The ant people? Deekin not be liking the ant people. Bad experience."

Nathyrra shrugged. "Halaster has a colony of formian slaves that delve through Undermountain at his command."

"Aren't we going wrong way?" Deekin asked. "You said the cave was below. We going up."

"We'll be going down soon enough."

They walked for hours, only stopping to drink from their water skins and eat a morsel of trail food. At last, the tunnel opened into a shallow gallery far over a vast plain, dotted by cook fires and tents.

"That be a lot of drow," Deekin whispered.

"_Xas_ and this is only a small fraction of the Valsharess's army," Nathyrra said. Solaufein could hear the murmur of voices rising from the distance. He'd led many a skirmish during his time as war leader for Ust Natha, but never anything on this scale. He couldn't imagine how this many soldiers could be properly led. Even to feed so many mouths would take a feat of organization. When he mentioned this to Nathyrra, she nodded.

"The chaos is unbelievable," she said. "They serve the Valsharess out of fear but she has no true leaders amongst her forces. Those who speak up do not do so for long." She mimed a blade across her throat. "Even her Red Sisters, her hand-picked cadre of assassins, dare not take initiative. This is why it is taking so long to conquer Undermountain. This is the weakness we will exploit to penetrate her camp." She motioned to the tunnel ahead. "From here, we go down."

Although the walking was easier, the descent took longer and included a rest period. Nathyrra, Solaufein noticed, studied a spell book.

"You are a wizard?" he asked when she packed it away.

"Among other things," she replied and then closed her eyes. Solaufein took the hint and moved away. He had many questions but had to agree that at this time, rest was more important.

Once fed and rested, Nathyrra led them onward. The tunnel ended near a jumble of huge loose rocks. Nathyrra signaled silence and led them in a winding route that avoided several informal guard posts. The cavern narrowed to a funnel shape and as they approached the throat of the funnel, drow became more numerous. Nathyrra breezed past several groups of guards with nothing but an arrogant hand signal, one he did not recognize. The male sentries responded to Nathyrra's signal with more than the usual amount of deference, Solaufein thought. He kept his face bland while his thoughts seethed. _Who is this woman? Does she lead us to a trap? But no, what would be the point of this subterfuge, she could have betrayed us to the first guards we met._

They continued in silence but Solaufein was warned by the slight stiffening in her back. A woman approached. Battle cleric, he thought as he took in the heavy armor and the flail at her side. _This could get nasty_. Nathyrra made no attempt to avoid her. Instead, with an imperious gesture, she beckoned. The cleric opened her mouth to speak but Nathyrra cut her off.

"Tell me, _jalil_, which of the Red Sisters guards Halaster? Is it Sabal?" The cleric hesitated, brow wrinkled. "Speak quickly, I have much to do."

"Ah, no, Sabal left on a mission some time ago and I do not know when to expect her return. Elgluth oversees the mad mage. May I have one of my males send a message?"

"You may not. You may tell me where I can find Elgluth." The cleric hesitated again. In a lower voice, Nathyrra said, "I would see my sister. Now."

The cleric dropped her hand to the hilt of her flail. Solaufein all but quivered with alertness but the woman made no move to attack. _She touches her weapon for comfort. Nathyrra frightens her_.

"Of course," she said. She dipped her head. "I will have you escorted to her."

"I need no escort," Nathyrra said with a voice that dripped with disdain. "Direct me."

"This corridor leads to a set of doors," she said. "The ritual chamber is within."

Nathyrra gave a stiff nod and beckoned for Solaufein to follow. They trooped down the tunnel in silence. _From here, it gets tricky_, she signaled to Solaufein. She met his eyes and then touched her dagger.

The doors at the end of the corridor were massive, made of dark wood and reinforced with wide bands of iron. The lustrous wood reflected the light of an ornate brazier that smoldered on a small table. Judging by the paraphernalia that littered the table, this brazier was used not for some arcane purpose, but to make tea. Two male guards stood by the doors and radiated an air of alert competence. A woman in the garb of a cleric of Lolth paced before them. What does it mean to be the cleric of a silent goddess, Solaufein wondered. Was it the presence of the Valsharess or the absence of Lolth that made these drow so nervous and edgy? Could the Spider Queen be dead? What would it mean if She was? _Everything!_

Nathyrra strode towards the cleric but for a moment her head turned to Solaufein and her eyes cut to the guards. Solaufein took casual steps toward them, eyes assessing their armor, and Haer'Dalis followed his lead.

"What do you want?" the cleric barked.

"I am here for Elgluth," Nathyrra said, with equal crispness.

"Elgluth is not to be disturbed, by her express order."

"She will wish to see me." Nathyrra smiled. "She will wish that very much." The cleric opened her mouth. Before she could speak, Nathyrra jammed her long dagger into the woman's eye. One of the guards leapt forward but Solaufein had his sword out. He chopped a hard blow at the man's outstretched neck. The other guard staggered when Haer'Dalis slammed into him. His shout was cut off when the bard's sword pierced his lung. Within a dozen quick breaths, all three lay dead.

Nathyrra pressed her ear to the wooden door.

"I don't think they heard anything," she whispered. "Drag the bodies away."

"Where? There's no real cover," Solaufein said.

"You're right. Get them away from the door at least. Maybe no one will notice."

Solaufein thought that unlikely but he and Haer'Dalis pulled the three bodies to the side. With a quirk of his lips, Haer'Dalis arranged them so they sat with their backs against the wall, like they had stopped for a tea break.

"The door is unlocked and unwarded," Nathyrra said. "I will slip inside and take a quick look around. You two take the guards' place." She frowned at Deekin. "You, try to be inconspicuous." Nathyrra's lips moved. Between one blink and the next, she disappeared from sight. Silent on its hinges, the door opened slightly and then closed again.

"Deekin knows an invisibility spell too," the kobold said after she left.

"So do I," Haer'Dalis said. "And it has come in handy on more than one occasion."

"Yes but that does you little good when your steps are as loud as a frost giant," Solaufein said. "I have a ring but I can only use it once a day, then it must recharge."

"An invisibility ring? Where did you get it?" Haer'Dalis asked.

"It was a gift from the Bhaalspawn."

"Lucky you, to have the lady's favor."

"You should have no complaints in that arena," Solaufein said.

"Indeed I do not." The tiefling gave a reminiscent smirk that Solaufein found highly irritating. "Ah, but these relationships, no matter how intense, seldom last. Love, like everything, decays and dies."

"For you, perhaps."

"For everyone. Come now, my dear raven, you cannot tell me your experiences differ so drastically from mine."

Solaufein frowned and made no reply. Tension knotted his shoulders as they waited but no drow approached. It was with relief that he heard the door behind him ease open. Nathyrra's invisible hand pressed his shoulder.

"We've got a problem," she said. Solaufein's gut tightened as she described what they had to face. "The ritual chamber is very large and open. Halaster is kept at the far end of the cavern and that is where all the guards are stationed. There are more than I expected. The room is well lit, presumably for the mage's benefit. There is an open gallery that runs along the back of the room and it is manned by at least a score of bowmen. There are swordsmen at floor level. I counted ten, as well as a couple of clerics and a mage who I know to be competent. And then there is Elgluth, the Red Sister who leads the interrogation of Halaster."

"We cannot hope to fight so many, especially without cover," Solaufein said.

Nathyrra squeezed his shoulder. "I agree. We will not be able to bluff our way past Elgluth. She knows me."

Through the open door, Solaufein heard a moan which rose to a shriek and then, even more disturbingly, broke into manic laughter.

"What is that?" Haer'Dalis asked.

Nathyrra's voice dropped in disapproval. "Elgluth tortures Halaster," she said. "The mage is held by rune stones made to twist and bind and reflect his power against himself. They can be used to send a surge of the most exquisitely honed pain through the one they bind, a pain that no human could withstand for long. Yet instead of using their magic, Elgluth must play with her knives and pincers, like a child tearing the legs from an insect. She has to get her hands bloody." She snorted. "Elgluth was always a fool and that is lucky for us, for she could have broken Halaster days ago if she had used the tools she was given." She paused. "If I can get close enough to the rune stones, I can speak the words of unbinding and release the mage."

"You know much of this," Haer'Dalis said, and his brows rose in interrogation.

"I do," Nathyrra said. "I designed the spells and made the rune stones myself. I am the Red Sister known as _Alurl Faen_. That means Best Wizard, tiefling."

"You a Red Sister?" Deekin squeaked.

"I was." She laughed. "Do not worry, small _jaluk_. I serve the Mother Seer now, and through her, Eilistraee. We must find a way for me to approach the wizard. Once we free him, it is my hope that he can draw upon the powers of Undermountain to attack our enemies, or at least to escape so he can strike at them later."

"If he escapes without us, won't that leave the four of us in a bad position?" Solaufein asked.

"Yes. Spells of teleportation are not reliable here in Undermountain. The room has no other exits that I saw."

"We can all turn invisible," Deekin said.

"If that was enough, I could have freed Halaster already. I need time, uninterrupted, to cast my spells but as soon as I begin, the drow mage will sense my presence. What we need is a diversion."

"Something to draw off the mage? An orc attack would be nice," Haer'Dalis said. "Too bad they're already dead." Another of Halaster's eerie cries rang out. He pressed his lips together.

"Drow lady know spell to animate dead?" Deekin asked.

"In fact, I do," she said. "I cannot raise that entire room full of orcs but a few—"

"Deekin thinking we got a few dead bodies right here."

All eyes cut to the three drow. "Yes," Nathyrra said. "So we do. And I could cast a magical flame over them to draw all eyes to them. A supernatural attack may draw the mage's attention."

"Deekin can summon big spiders."

"You're full of ideas, kobold."

"I, too, have a summoning spell or two," Haer'Dalis murmured. He eyed the doors. "How wide will these open, I wonder?"

**Drow words:**

_ilythiiri—_drow  
_jalil—_female  
_jaluk(en)—_male(s)  
_nau—_no  
_vendui—_greetings  
_xas—_yes


	9. Outnumbered

**9…Outnumbered**

"_Jaluk_," Nathyrra said. "I am impressed and I do not say that often."

"Why thank you," Haer'Dalis said. He gazed up at his summoned wyvern, which had swooped once around the cavern before alighting on the floor before him. Two spiders the size of ponies sat docile before the kobold and Nathyrra's zombies, fresh as they were, could almost be mistaken for living elves. Flames flickered over their bodies and created light but no heat.

"Very well," Nathyrra said. "Time for us to all become invisible. Everyone has their potion handy, in case our spells wear off or are stripped from us? Then let us be off. We will hug the right side of the room. Deekin, give us time to get into position before you send in the summons. Have our creatures stay near the door, to draw attention away from Halaster. I will cast a spell of haste upon us all, that our creatures may be more effective and that we may accomplish our task all the sooner."

She cast her spells. Solaufein felt his heart surge to a rapid beat as energy poured into his body. He smiled to himself. It was time. If all went well, they would snatch the mage and avoid a fight where the odds were against them. He did not think all would go that well. He could feel the fight before them like a premonition in his bones. He rubbed his luck charm. A pious man would pray for protection or perhaps forgiveness for his sins and errors. No words came. His sword would speak for him, when the time came.

He and Haer'Dalis pulled open both doors. Solaufein could only hope he wouldn't stumble into one of his unseen companions. His soft boots made no sound but he could hear the footsteps of Haer'Dalis, noisy surfacer that he was.

He moved at close to a run but he slowed as the wizard came into sight. Halaster stood within an arcane circle scribed on the floor around a triangle. Three runestones formed the corners of the triangle. Each flat stone stood about at the height of his knee. They reminded him of the grave markers he'd seen in human cemeteries. The runestones were carved of pale soft stone and were embellished with markings that made his eyes flinch. The wizard stood in the center of the triangle but sagged in a way that suggested that magic and not his own will held him upright. His hair was as white as any drow's but shaggy and unkempt. A white beard straggled over his collar bones. He had been stripped of his robes, which lay in a dark puddle of cloth outside the circle and wore loose black breeches and socks but no shoes. A woman stood beside him—the Red Sister, Solaufein assumed. Her hand was very dark against the wizard's pale flesh. She held a dagger. As he watched, she peeled another strip of flesh from the old man's bloody belly. Halaster looked over her head with eyes that seemed to track two directions at once. Strangely, his expression showed more irritation than fear.

The woman's hand dropped lower and Halaster jerked and then screamed.

"You shall tell me how to open a portal to the Underdark," she said. "Or I will slice off your manhood, such as it is, old man, and let you lip it off the edge of my blade."

"Best leave me my manhood if you wish me to make your mistress sing. Tra la! Tell her to hie to my side and I shall whisper the secret into her long ebon ear." The mage cackled. "Maybe she can bring me a flower. Is it Greengrass yet? Does the sap rise? I'm sure it must be time for spring revels." Halaster lolled his head back against his invisible restraints. His eyes were strange and pale and quite thoroughly mad, Solaufein thought. His voice changed from a whisper to a shout. "Where's the boy with my drink? I want the nettle tea, mind you, and it had best be hot." He stared straight at Solaufein and blinked. "Late again. Someone needs a good beating," he muttered. His voice rose. "And I want an apple with my tea. No, a dinner roll. Make that six. With butter! Damn that boy, what is taking so long? Are the cows all dry? Again?"

"Who does he think he is talking to?" asked one of the priestesses.

"He speaks to shadows," the Red Sister said and shrugged. "I don't care who he speaks to as long as he tells me what I wish to know."

"The human is mad, mistress," the drow mage said. "He cannot help us."

"Then he will die."

The mage gave the Red Sister an uneasy look. "Mistress, is it wise to kill him? You can feel his power woven through the very rock. Some fear the mountain itself will collapse upon his death."

"Then he will speak." She twisted her blade. Halaster gasped.

"He has spoken for hours and days, mistress, but his words make no sense."

"The _rivvil_ thinks to hide behind his madness. Soon I shall strip away even that defense." The Red Sister smiled but her expression changed when the wyvern's cry pierced the still air of the room. "What? More of the madman's wandering beasts? I thought we had destroyed them." She jerked her head at the mage. "Deal with it, _jaluk_, and harshly. I will not be interrupted." He bowed and beckoned for the swordsmen to follow him.

"Now, rivvil, you will speak and you will answer my question," she said. "How is the portal opened?" Halaster twisted his head to look at something behind him. Solaufein crept closer. _Does he see the others? Or is he indeed looking at shadows?_ The mage shivered one eye closed in an elaborate wink. The Red Sister growled and slapped his face. "You will pay attention when I speak, fool, or I will pluck that wandering eyeball from your addled head."

"And you will feed me my eye on the point of your blade, yes, yes, of course you will. And you thought I did not heed your dulcet words, for shame. My attention to the ladies is legendary but we were speaking of my eyeball, yes? May I have relish with that? A sweet relish with pickled carrots would be nice. Carrots are the perfect complement, but that is obvious, yes? Too obvious? Would eggs be better? Which do you recommend?"

"I recommend that you—"

"Ah, look, the first of the season's butterflies. I knew Greengrass had come. Bring on the revels!"

The Red Sister turned her head at the flap of the wyvern's wings. The beast had one of the swordsmen in its claws. As Solaufein watched, the beast lowered its beak and snapped the man's neck. It dropped the body and sheared away, followed by a hail of bolts from the gallery. A scream rang out from near the door and then there was a blinding flash of lightning. Solaufein closed his eyes just a hair too slowly to protect his vision.

"How I love a spring storm," Halaster murmured.

Solaufein barely heard Nathyrra's words but he saw their effect when one of the runestones crumbled into white powder. Halaster gave a grunt and sank to one knee. The Red Sister jerked in alarm and her free hand jerked in a frantic signal to the cleric beside her. Instead of calling a spell, the cleric pulled a medallion from under her clothes and whispered a word of activation. Her head swiveled and Solaufein could tell by her startled glance that she could see them.

"Invaders," she gasped. "They are cloaked in spells."

"Strip their magic," the Red Sister said.

"I will need my wand."

"Then get it, fool. Must I tell you everything?" The assassin jumped when the runestone near her knee fell into dust.

"If the mage is freed—"

"Then I will kill him." With a quick step, the Red Sister moved behind Halaster, shoved him down on both knees and held her blade to his throat.

"Kill the mage and the Valsharess will not be pleased." Nathyrra stepped out of the spell that hid her and smiled. "You know better than most how—creatively—and thoroughly she expresses her displeasure."

"Alurl Faen," the Red Sister said. Her eyes were wide but her voice was careful and controlled. "So it's true. You still live. The Valsharess will reward me greatly when I bring her your head."

"Not if you cost her Undermountain and the swift path to the surface."

"There are other ways to the surface. They may take longer—"

Nathyrra laughed. "Aye, and the Valsharess is so well known for her patience. Elgluth, you are as foolish as ever."

"And you as brash. Archers!" She raised her hand and bolts rained down from the gallery behind her. None struck Nathyrra. Her magics protect her, Solaufein realized, at least until the cleric dispels them. The cleric had reached the wall and picked up a leather case. Solaufein ran after her and struck at her exposed neck before she could turn and see her danger. To his shock, the blow half severed her neck. She died almost instantly. He'd never killed a priestess with such ease.

_Dark Maiden, where are her protections, her spells? Could it possibly be true? Could the Spider Queen be dead and her clerics helpless?_

A crossbow bolt struck the floor near his foot. Several other archers leaned over, ready to fire. His invisibility was gone. If he could still levitate, he could easily reach the gallery above but since he could not, he ran a dodging path back towards Nathyrra. It was probably smarter to save his invisibility potion until the situation became more dangerous, since his armor was good and the range of the crossbows was limited by the archers' position. Unless, of course, an archer pulled off a lucky head shot. _Best not to think about that._

A sound rang out, first a ringing tone and then it dropped into a melody, at first glorious. Haer'Dalis could use his voice to strengthen his friends but also he sang as a weapon. As the song dropped into a lower and lower register, his voice changed until it seemed to come from no living throat at all. Surely a vengeful ghost sang of its life and its death and its eternity of bitter suffering, alone, unloved, and unheard. Solaufein had heard this dirge before; he knew it; and yet there was a part of him that woke to sorrow anew. He heard one and then another of the archers moan in fear and despair. At least one dropped his bow and turned his face to the cavern wall behind him.

He saw Haer'Dalis shimmer half in and half out of view. Nathyrra stood near the Red Sister.

"Do not think to use your spells on me," Elgluth said.

"I challenge you," Nathyrra said. "You told others that if you had been sent against me, I'd be long dead. Why don't you prove it now?"

Elgluth laughed. "Do you think me such a fool as to give up my advantage? No, Alurl Faen. You are outnumbered and soon you shall fall at my feet, like this pitiful _rivvil_." She jerked Halaster's head back against her hip. "Stand away, _og'elend_, and tell your males to drop their arms. I will slay the mage before I let him fall into your hands."

Nathyrra stepped back. Her hair fell across her face and the words of a spell ripped out of her throat. Solaufein crouched, ready to spring. In a rush of air that popped painfully against his ears, a giant hand appeared out of the air before Nathyrra. The massive phantasmal fingers closed around the Red Sister but not before she drew her blade across the mage's throat. Halaster fell forward and hit the ground face first while the spell pushed the woman back. Solaufein raced to Elgluth. Pinned, she stared up with furious eyes.

"Light take you—" she growled. She struggled but could not move.

Solaufein jammed his blade into her throat before she could complete her curse. "Light take you as well," he muttered.

"The mage, does he live?" Haer'Dalis asked. Nathyrra knelt beside Halaster and rolled him over. She pressed her slender fingers against his throat. Blood ran in streaks through Halaster's beard.

"Quickly, a healing potion," she said. Haer'Dalis pulled one from his belt pouch. "Pour it over his wound, here. Good. Give me another and I will see if he can swallow."

"Hurry," Solaufein said. His ears twitched. "One of the swordsman calls for help. Soon we will be overrun." A bolt passed closer than he liked and was followed by two more as the archers on the gallery recovered from the bard's song. "More so than we already are, that is."

"Curse me, I forgot the last runestone!" Nathyrra cried out the word of unmaking and it crumbled into dust like the others. Solaufein tensed. The mage was free. Nothing felt different. A stream of fiery arrows lit the far side of the room near the door. The long shrieking cry and the thud of a heavy body that followed told him the wyvern had fallen to the drow mage's spells.

"I hope you have a plan for getting us out of here," Haer'Dalis said. "Alive, by my preference."

"I had planned on Halaster being alive and conscious," Nathyrra snapped.

"Trot out your spells, bard," Solaufein said. "The archers seem to have recovered their spirits. Their reinforcements will be here shortly." He stepped forward to guard Nathyrra from the figure that shot towards them and relaxed slightly when he saw it was Deekin. The kobold's eyes were stretched open wide.

"More drow coming," he gasped. "Lots more."

Haer'Dalis frowned. "Shall we run for it?"

"Run where? The only way out is through the door we came in," Solaufein snapped.

"Not true."

Both men whipped their heads around at Halaster's whispered words. The mage's hand clutched Nathyrra's knee. With a frown, she helped him to a sitting position.

"I must find the words to express my gratitude, dear lady," Halaster said. "You saved my life.

"Use short words," Deekin said. His eyes were on the drow who poured into the chamber like a silent, lethal wave. "We about to die."

"No," Halaster said. He cast the approaching enemy a cursory glance. "They are."

* * *

In later days, Solaufein tried not to remember the hellish devastation that blasted from the very rock around him. He tried not to remember the screams, or the dust that swirled around the room, or the greasy feel to the air. The dust and the grease, they were all that remained of a roomful of living, breathing, vengeful drow.

His eyes burned so from the storm of energy that had swept the room that he thought his sight deceived him. Two Halasters? The mage's double shimmered into view like he'd stepped through an invisible door. The new Halaster was fully clothed, if somewhat disheveled, and his shaggy brows were drawn down in a ferocious frown.

"Where is the impudent strumpet who dares to violate my home?" His eyes settled on Nathyrra, who still supported the wounded Halaster. "You there. You're the wrong one. Where is she?"

"Who do you seek?" Nathyrra asked. "For that matter, who are you?" She bent over the first Halaster. "I thought—are you Halaster? Is this an illusion?"

Both Halasters ignored her. "She's not here, old boy," the first Halaster said. "No Valsharess."

"Flown the cote?"

"The bird never fluttered in at all. These pesky adventurers 'rescued' me before the trap could snap."

"Now that is a damned inconvenience." The second Halaster turned his head so that his glare was shared out amongst the four of them. "You shall pay for your meddling, fools."

"Hold a moment," said the first Halaster. "I'm not so sure the plan was working."

"Of course the plan was working. Unless you did something stupid. But you couldn't be stupid. You're too me to be stupid."

"You're right, of course. Don't think it will work twice, though. Do you? So now how are we going to lure the Valsharess here?"

"Together, we'll think of something. Two brains are better than one, after all." The second Halaster tapped his nose.

"After lunch," the first Halaster said. "My stomach thinks my throat's been cut." He rubbed the wound under his chin. "My stomach called that about right, perspicacious organ. Good thing the pretty one was quick with her potions."

"Deal with your stomach after we deal with these meddlers," the second Halaster said. "Shall I drop them into a seething pool of lava?"

"Deekin not be liking that idea!"

Both Halasters ignored the kobold. "They meant well," the first Halaster said.

"That would make a fitting epitaph." Both Halasters chuckled. The second Halaster offered a hand and pulled his double to his feet.

"Does it not matter that Nathyrra saved your—your twin's life?" Haer'Dalis said.

"True enough," the first Halaster said. "I acknowledge the debt, misguided though the lady's actions were. We shall spare your lives, adventurers."

"Not so fast," said the second Halaster. He pointed a finger, tipped with a long dirty nail, at Solaufein. "This one I remember." He stepped closer. His eyes glittered with malice. Solaufein took an involuntary step back. "Drow, you slaughtered Berger. He was mine and you killed him."

"He did?" the first Halaster asked. "He killed poor little Berger? Damnable bloodthirsty drow! Why would you do such a thing? Who's going to air out my sock drawer and see that the monsters are fed?"

"I did not know he was sentient," Solaufein said.

"He spoke to you, fool," the second Halaster said.

"And he did attack me," Solaufein said. "If you were watching, you know that."

"Nonsense, the boy wouldn't harm a fly," the first Halaster said. "Well, perhaps he would but no matter. The point is, Berger was under my protection and you killed him. Now you must pay."

"A life for a life," his twin said. Solaufein felt a prickle in the air and smelled the scent of a coming surface storm. He drew his sword, little use though it be against wizards of such power.

"Wait," Nathyrra cried. To Solaufein's astonishment, she leapt forward and interposed her body between him and the Halasters. "This is the man who can defeat the Valsharess! The Seer has foreseen this. You must not kill him. He is Eilistraee's champion!"

"Foreseen and foretold," the first Halaster muttered. "Forsooth, prophesy gives me an ache in the forehead. I say kill him anyway. Warriors and champions must come ten to a copper, judging by the number who find their way here." He gave his twin a weary look. "Speaking of which, old boy, we are positively infested with them at the moment."

"Yes, yes, I will deal with Durnan's pesky brood," the second Halaster said. "But first I'll deal with this bloodthirsty drow. Not that blood flowed through Berger's veins. Couldn't really call that blood, no indeed, and I doubt very much it would slake anyone's thirst. Even a drow's. Did Berger even have veins? Can't recall now but I rather think he didn't."

"Stick to the point," the first Halaster said.

"The point?"

"What if drow say he sorry he got so mad at Berger?" Deekin asked. "Can't you makes another golem? Not hard for you, Deekin guessing."

"Harder than you think. Berger was unique," the second Halaster said. "Besides, I can hardly spare another bit of that particular flesh. Doesn't grow back, you know. The pain was excru—" He stopped. The two Halasters exchanged glances. At the same moment, smiles erupted on their faces. "We will spare your life if you kill the Valsharess. A life for a life, what could be fairer than that? We would see to her ourselves but we have much to do. All this pesky housework! Go, then, and ensure this upstart drow queen stays out of Undermountain."

Solaufein saw Nathyrra's shoulders slump in relief. He tightened his grip on his sword. He did not trust the glint in the Halasters' eyes.

"However—" the first Halaster said.

"You killed Berger and must pay the blood price. It's never good to let these little debts accumulate, you know."

"Excruciating pain, I know it well and so shall you, drow."

"Strike down my boy in anger, will you? Next time you'll think twice. Live and suffer and maybe you'll learn." The wizards stepped forward. Neither laid a hand on Nathyrra but she found herself shunted to the side. Both mages cocked their heads to the same angle. They chanted in unison. Their words echoed as they broke the ominous silence. Their sound was made all the more eerie by the fact that the men spoke different words but at an identical cadence and inflection. Their voices rose in crescendo.

"No," Nathyrra whispered in horrified recognition.

The spell crashed over Solaufein in a wave of such agony as he had never experienced, not in a lifetime of torture and punishment. All warriors know pain; all drow know pain; drow warriors accept pain as the price of survival. This was pain beyond the familiar anguish of the body, pain beyond what anyone could accept. This spell struck at his very soul, it seemed, and it wrenched from him a scream that would have not been out of place in any of the Nine Hells. At first the pain was everywhere, driving the breath from his body and the thoughts from his head. After an unending moment, it began to center itself like a red hot spike thrust deep and straight into his heart.

He fell to the floor.

"He still holds on to his sword," one of the Halaster's said. Solaufein's eyes squeezed shut. He could not tell the men apart from their voices.

"These warriors are all alike," said another Halaster. He made a tsking noise.

"Predictable," the other agreed. "That's what makes our curse so cleverly fitting."

"All he has to do is let go. Think he will do so? Even with this little hint?"

"Would you like a small wager on how long it takes?"

"Stop it! You're killing him," Nathyrra cried.

"No, no, the curse will not kill him. Unless he has a weak heart, and surely that is not the case if he has been chosen by this goddess of yours. Might wish he was dead, heh heh, but that's a different matter altogether. The pain will lessen. I daresay he will become accustomed."

"Unless he doesn't." The other Halaster snickered.

"This is how you treats us after we frees you?" Deekin said. "Solaufein a drow. You know how they is. You should have told Berger to stay away from drow."

"Berger should have been safe here in his home."

"This not a safe place!" Deekin cried. "This a terrible place! You terrible too, just like people say. You not being fair."

Halaster shrugged. "Ah, but I am mad, drakeling, just like people say. What is fairness to me?"

"What is the nature of this curse?" asked a grim Haer'Dalis.

"Why, it is beautifully simple. Every time yon black-hearted drow draws his sword in anger, this will happen." He pointed at Solaufein's writhing body. "Maybe next time he'll think before he goes around slaughtering innocent golems in their own homes and inconveniencing their masters."

"You will remove this curse now," Haer'Dalis said.

The Halaster he faced grinned and said nothing. The other one spoke. "Remove it? I will not. If he thinks this curse unjust, I suppose he can ask his goddess to lift it. An interesting test of faith, eh? Maybe he'll thank me one day." Solaufein moaned and tried to rise to a crawling position. His glowing red eyes shot the nearest Halaster a look of hatred. "Or maybe not. Still, a champion of Eilistraee must learn mercy, after all." He studied Solaufein's face. "The goddess might want to choose another. This one doesn't look suitable at all. Are you sure he's the right one?" he asked Nathyrra. "Mayhap your Eilistraee has made an error." Solaufein growled and tried to lift his sword. His arms collapsed when the pain intensified.

"Halaster, please," Nathyrra said.

"But that is Her business, I suppose. Far be it from me to advise a goddess. When your hero here kills the Valsharess, the curse will be lifted. So he'd best get cracking. Off you go, drow, back to where you came from. And stay there, this time. I don't want your kind here. No offense, dear lady," he said, with a nod to Nathyrra. He raised his hands.

"Wait," she said. "If you send him to the Underdark, send me with him. Send us both to the camp of the Seer."

"Very well. Since my double seems to think we owe you a debt, I will fulfill your request," said the second Halaster. "What about the rest of you?"

"I go with Solaufein," Haer'Dalis said.

"Um, Deekin not sure—"

Halaster cut him off. "Off you go then. Good luck and don't take any wooden knickers."

**Drow Words:**

_jaluk_--male  
_og'elend—traitor  
__rivvil_—human


End file.
